Or Not
by politik780
Summary: Just Listen - Owen's Point of View. **UPDATE** Please read!
1. Chapter 1

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

I noticed her the first day she sat down on the wall next to me. I remembered her vaguely as one of the popular girls from the beginning of last year. She used to hang out with that girl, what's her name? Sarah, or Sophie, something like that. They were always together, which made me wonder why this girl was sitting on the wall, alone, and not with her friends.

I could feel her looking at me. Feel her light stare on my face, no doubt wondering if I was someone to be feared. She probably either saw or heard about what I did to that guy Ronnie last year, or even more, heard about the fight I got into at that club - the reason I went away for a while.

Against my will, I felt a little ashamed and it confused me. Normally I didn't care what people thought of me, especially the robot kids at school. They don't know anything about me and have no right to judge me. But for some strange reason, I kept hoping that she didn't think I was bad or terrifying.

Then she looked away and it unexpectedly felt like something was missing. Like when she tore her gaze away from me, she also tore one of my limbs off. With her attention turned to girl with black hair sitting on the other side of her, I took the time to study her out of the corner of my eye, as she had me.

She had a soft looking face, at least as much as I could tell from her profile. Her nose fell to a soft slope above her mouth, which was open slightly, ready to accept the sandwich she was holding lightly in her hands. Her blond hair cascaded gracefully around her face, and down her back. She was thin, fragile almost, but looked like she could hold her own none the less.

Before I could stop the thought rising in the back of my mind, it was there. _She's beautiful. _I looked away embarrassed, as if she could hear my thoughts, and would be disgusted that I was thinking about her in that way. She didn't even know me.

Since even before going to anger management, I had turned my focus away from girls, and towards something that I had thought was more. I immersed myself in the calm, beautiful, and intense world of music. During my parents divorce, I had used music as an escape; a means of blocking out all the pain and anger that radiated from both of my parents. Then I began to see music as more of a way to express some of the anger I felt. The music I listened to reflected my mood. When I was sad, the music was soothing and quiet, when I was happy upbeat, when I was mad, loud and angry. Then everything began to blend together. Each song spoke to me – had a different message to share.

I set out to find new interesting genres of music that could fill my head with understanding, with enlightenment. I became obsessed.

When I glanced back I saw the girl lower her hand and open her mouth more as to say something to the other girl, who was looking back at her. But then suddenly the girl turned away from her, gathered her books together, and walked away quickly, like she couldn't put enough distance between them fast enough.

The girl with the blond hair and soft looking face, watched her walk away and then looked down at her sandwich not lifting her eyes from it again. What had happened between them? Why was the other girl so quick to walk away?

I looked away from her and focused on the steady rhythm of the notes that flooded from my earphones. We sat like that for the remainder of lunch, not looking at each other.

When I finally caught her movement out of the corner of my eyes, there were only a few minutes of lunch left. People were beginning to exit the quad and return to the school building. She lifted her arm to look at her watch, and began to pack up her half-eaten lunch.

When she had almost finished her task, she looked up for the first time in almost an hour, and froze. I followed her line of sight to a red Jeep parked at the curb. I hadn't even noticed it approach. A brown-haired guy had just gotten out, and was talking to the driver. When he finally said goodbye and started to walk up to the building, the girl stiffened next to me.

Her gaze was zeroed in on the driver still in the car.

He looked around the courtyard, and then met the gaze of the perfect statue next to me. He looked away quickly without recognition, and I suspected that she had some sort of crush on this guy. Maybe that was why she was watching him so intently.

She continued watched as the Jeep pulled away and drove up and over the hill, out of sight. Without warning, she put her hand over her mouth, turned, and vomited into the grass behind her. Obviously, I had been mistaken. Something was wrong. There was something about that guy that made her sick. I couldn't pin point what it was.

When she looked up, she quickly glanced around the almost empty courtyard, and then locked eyes with me.

I was startled by the intensity that her eyes held. Yes, something was defiantly wrong. Her eyes said it all. She was not all right. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to ask her if she was okay. It was when she looked away, obviously embarrassed, that I made my escape from her presence. I quickly but quietly got up willing my bulky body to walk away from her, into the school where everyone else had already gathered for their afternoon classes.

When I reached to building, I glanced back over my shoulder, and saw that she had her head in hands. Sitting there alone.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I own none of this. It's all Ms. Dessen's. Sorry if I use the same dialogue (in future chapters), but that's what happens when you write a book from a different POV. Thanks. Don't forget to review - it makes me sad if you don't..._

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

I couldn't stop thinking about her for the rest of the day. My remaining classes blew by, and I was so caught up in my thoughts, that I didn't even wave as they passed by. I could feel my teachers getting annoyed at my inattentiveness, but I just couldn't pay attention. My thought we fully and hopelessly on her. She mesmerized me to no end. But why? I kept telling myself she was just an ordinary girl. _But she's not…and you know it._ I couldn't help but want to know exactly what made her sick at the end of lunch.

Anyone could have sat down next to me today. But it just happened to be her. The girl I normally would have never given a second look to. The girl who was probably no deeper than a puddle, left over from the previous day's light rain.

However, as much as I kept telling myself this, I couldn't bring myself to believe it. She was different.

By the time my last class was about to start, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want to go to class. I couldn't concentrate, so what was the point?

I made my way to the library, carefully avoiding any teachers wandering around the school. I knew my seventh period teacher Mrs. Browne would understand my need for time to clear my head, but I was pretty sure none of the others would be as sympathetic.

When I walked into the large, high-ceilinged room, I was met with a cold blast from the library's perpetually running air conditioners. I wished I had stopped at my locker and gotten my jacket. Oh well. I walked up to the desk and asked the librarian if I could see last year's school yearbook. She looked at me for a moment before moving, as if she was contemplating whether to ask me why I was not in class or just get me the book. To my relief she opted on the later and after leading me to the reference section where the old yearbooks were kept. She pointed them out and gave me a look that said, _just this once._ I answered her look with one of my own thanking her for not saying anything.

When she was a safe distance away, I skimmed the dates on the sides of the books until I found the one I was looking for. I made my way to a table by a window and proceeded to open it, pleasuring in the warm August air wafting in.

I sat down and took a deep breath before opening the book in front of me. I flipped through the pages one by one, looking for her. Page after page the faces blended until they all looked the same, until I finally reached her face.

There she was, staring out at me from the page. She looked the same and yet different. She was smiling a dazzling smile that radiated from her face. She held herself with a confidence that I didn't see in her today as we sat on the wall. It was like she had changed.

I tore myself away from her face and looked at the name neatly printed next to row that contained her picture. _Annabel Greene._

I don't know how long I sat there for. Just looking at her picture. It was weird, but I couldn't tear myself away. Thoughts flooded through my mind, and I switched on my iPod, turning to a song that seemed to suit the moment. I thought about how she had changed my life so quickly. I felt like I was jumping to conclusions, but before she showed up at lunch I had drowned myself in my routine. I would get up, go to school, focus as much as I could on what the teacher was saying between thinking about my radio show, go home do homework, and work more on my radio show with Rolly.

The previous week's show had gone pretty well. Two people actually called in with requests - a record so far. I have a pretty good feeling that not many people actually listen to my show, and many that actually do only listen to make fun of what I put on it. They must think it's a joke or something.

But it's not. My show, Anger Management, is all about becoming enlightened. Music is a deep subject in my opinion. Music is subjective. Not everyone is going to like every type of music there is, but they at least should come out of the holes they call their lives and make an effort to expand their music vocabulary.

I couldn't understand how in one short hour, this girl Annabel Greene, was able to sidetrack me out of my routine and throw me into a whirlpool of thought I hadn't had in…forever.

After an immeasurable amount of time, I turned to look out the window. It was clear that school had just gotten out. Funny, I hadn't even heard the bell. As I sat there watching the hundreds of kids talking to friends about the joys of their first day back to school, getting in their cars and onto buses, one person stood out from all the others. It was as if I had wished her and there she was walking briskly towards the parking lot, head down. She got into her car, and took a deep breath before starting the engine. She had just pulled out into the line of traffic trying to escape from the school, when she leaned over the seat next to her, and started rummaging through her bag.

Even from the distance away I was, I could see the look of frustration, or was it annoyance, that crossed her face when she glanced at the caller id of her cell phone before flipping it open and saying something into it. After listening for a moment she switched the phone to her other ear, and inched her car up a little. I watched her for a few more minutes as she looked in her mirror making a face at herself. As the phone conversation continued, I saw her annoyance grow. She moved up more until she was almost out of my line of sight. I found myself getting up and walking the length of the windows that covered the side of the library until I could see her again.

Finally the cars began to move at a reasonable pace, and she started to disappear from sight. I could faintly see her hang up her phone as she turned out of the parking lot and on to the street.

She continued to plague my thoughts as I returned the yearbook to its original place. Hopefully then the librarian would not have any reason to tell anyone of my skipping class. I walked out of the brightly lit room and into the hallway.

I made my way to my locker slowly. When I reached it I was forced to think of my combination for a moment before being able to open my locker. I put my books in my bag and grabbed my jacket. I began the walk to the parking lot, taking my time to insure I would not be stuck in the traffic jam of kids trying to get out. It was only when I looked up at the clock outside the auditorium that I realized I was going to be late picking up Mallory.

I picked up my pace, and sighed thinking of how Mallory would be upset by my inability to be on time. I would just say I was sorry and hope she would let me off this time. She could be a real pain sometimes and I didn't feel like dealing with her today.

I reached my car, and got in, careful not to disturb the massive amounts of CDs stacked around the inside of my car. I put my key in, and relished in the familiar sound of my car starting up. Before putting the car in gear, I turned to search through the towering CDs in my back seat. I found what I was looking for and slipped it in my stereo.

After turning up the volume, I began to bob my head in rhythm to the beats of the music. I turned out of the parking lot and made my way to the middle school to get Mallory.

She was waiting outside for me with a bored expression. When she saw my car turn into the parking lot she crossed her arms and gave me a look that said, _Where have you been? _I was ready to apologize and tell her why I had been so late when she burst into the car, knocking over several stacks of CDS, and launched into a story of how some guy in her class had asked to borrow a pen or something like that. I sat there looking at her for a second wondering if this was her way of punishing me. From the look in her eyes I could tell I was forgiven and she just really wanted to tell me this.

Of course, I could have cared less.

"Mallory, take it down a notch," I said to her while pulling away from the curb. "Slow down, and take a breath."

"I can't! This is just so exciting! He asked me for a pen! He talked to me! Can you believe it Owen?" She said excitedly shaking my arm. "I was so excited that he was actually talking to me, I just sat there for a second until I finally handed him my pen. Oh my god! And then he gave it back. I am going to keep it forever!"

"That's great. Now please, let go of my arm. I can't drive with you hanging on me!" She let go but continued to talk on and on about everything that the kid did.

Mallory, as much as I loved her, frustrated me sometimes. You would think that being my sister, she would be more like me, but she's not. It's good in some ways; at least she didn't have to deal with so much anger as I did, but in other ways it was just said. She was turning into exactly what I feared – another teenage robot.

Instead of making her own path in her music choices, she chose to listen to the mainstream crap that some people actually consider music. It is disgusting that _Bitsy Bonds _is considered a singer. She's so fake.

My sister had also been sucked into the world of dictated fashion choices, and had sadly become a label whore. I try and tell her that it doesn't matter what brand your clothes come from, but rather the only thing that should matter is that we a fortunate enough to have clothes – but she chooses not to listen to her older brother. A fatal mistake in my mind.

I'm really not as deaf, dumb, and blind as she thinks I am.

I sat there and tried to seem like I was interested, even nodding once or twice, but my mind was elsewhere.

It seemed that we reached home faster than usual. Mallory was out of the car and halfway up the walk to tell our mom what had happened today before I had even turned off the motor. I sat there a minute and thought about what had happened today. I really wanted to talk to Annabel, but I didn't want to scare her away. I resolved that maybe if I just kept sitting there, listening to my iPod, not bothering anyone, she might not think of me as a threat and would talk to me on her own.

So it was decided. I would just sit on the wall like every other day, and wait for her to get used to having me there and possibly talk to me. It was a perfect plan. But then I started thinking. I had sat there first. So maybe I should say something. It would be the friendliest thing to do…right?

_No, you don't want to frighten her. Just let her come to you. Maybe she has a good reason for not talking to you._

As I got out of my car and walked up to the house, I decided that I would just let things unfold. If it wasn't meant to be, I would know.

---ooo---

The next few days of school, nothing really changed. We still just sat there, not talking, all through lunch. The black haired girl who had hurried away from Annabel wasn't there anymore, but Annabel still sat in the spot she sat that first day. Surprisingly, this filled me with a little hope. She wasn't so scared of me that she moved as far away as possible. That was a good sign. However, we still did not talk.

It didn't bother me as much as I thought it might. Just being in her presence was enough for now. I continued to listen intently to my ever-present iPod, trying to decide which songs to put on my radio show this Sunday. I would sit there listening as the music changed from one song to the next. When I got to my favorites, I would drum my fingers and occasionally hum along.

Sometimes I would just close my eyes, lean back, and feel the music flowing through my veins. It was during those times when I felt her eyes on me the most. So I kept my eyes closed, resisting the urge to open them and catch her eyes in mine. I tried to not think of her sitting next to me and rather absorbed myself in the music. It calmed me, and made it easier to pay attention in my afternoon classes. The rest of the week, nothing happened.

It wasn't until Friday that something big occurred, and might possibly have been moment that changed our relationship forever.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I do not own any of this. It's all Ms. Dessen's. I realize that I am using some of the same dialogue lines, but that is what happens when you write a story like this._

_Thanks to all two of the people who were kind enough to write a review. It makes me happy. Happy people are good so please, as long as you continue reading and reviewing I will continue writing. Constructive criticism is helpful._

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

It had been during one of those rare moments when I wasn't thinking about Annabel. In fact, I hadn't seen Annabel all day because she hadn't been at the wall during lunch. I had been working on the final song list for Sunday while walking out of the school at the end of the day. I had really fallen behind in putting together this week's shows, and since I didn't want to explain why to Rolly yet, I had spent the whole day living and breathing Anger Management.

I had just gotten out of the school when I saw Annabel rummaging through her bag and walking down the stairs out of the main building ahead of me. I continued walking after her but not closing the gap between us. She pulled a bunch of papers out and began studying them as she made her way to the parking lot.

Suddenly I saw her glance up and down real quick. Almost to fast for anyone to really notice. But I did.

When I saw what had made her look away so fast and pick up her pace, I felt my breath unconsciously hitch in my throat.

It was the red Jeep from the day before. She quickly made her way around the bumper, and had almost made it across the narrow street, when something made her turn back towards the Jeep parked at the curb. I was still to far away but I could guess the driver had said something to her.

She stood there looking very uncomfortable as the driver continued to talk to her. I saw her mouth move slightly as she said something back. I unconsciously picked up the pace of my walk feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over me.

When I was within a few feet of the car, I shut off my iPod, curious of what they were saying.

_Isn't this the guy that made her sick the other day? Why is she talking to him?_

I watched as Annabel turned away, put her papers in her bag, not bothering to zip it up, and began walking. Not towards her original direction however. She began walking towards the closest building, looking as if she was going to faint or get sick again.

I hitched my bag up higher on my shoulder and followed her, trying to look inconspicuous, like I had forgotten something. She hadn't gotten that far before someone from behind her – it looked like that Sophie girl – called out to her.

"What was _that_?" she said with an ugly sneer. I could hear the anger dripping from her voice.

But Annabel didn't turn around. She only stopped in her tracks, slightly swaying although the light August breeze had come to a standstill.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Annabel?" Sophie asked again, louder this time. "Didn't you get enough that night? You need more or something?"

I didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but I could tell from Annabel's stiff stance that she did. She started to walk forward again, obviously trying to get away from the girl behind her.

"Don't you ignore me," Sophie yelled at her back. "Turn around bitch!"

I wanted to do something, help her maybe, but a group of kids had bunched together in front of me to get in on the action.

Annabel still didn't move yet. She stood there still as stone; a perfect statue. Then Sophie reached out and grabbed Annabel's shoulder. I could visually see her stiffen up more if that was even possible.

Suddenly she whirled around to face Sophie, raised both her arms, and pushed her harshly back away from her. Sophie wasn't expecting this reaction from her and lost her footing for a moment. The surprise on her face was evident.

She got her balance back and strode back towards where Annabel stood.

"Oh my God," she said in a low voice. Annabel started to back away from the advancing figure in front of her. "You'd better – "

I could hear the security guard cart roll up, and the officer yelling for the now massive crowd surrounding Annabel and Sophie to break it up.

"You're a whore," she said in that low voice again. "Stay away from my boyfriend, do you hear me?"

"Sophie…" Annabel said in a voice just as low but lacking the anger Sophie's held. Sophie shook her head and walked quickly past her, bumping her shoulder hard knocking her into the diminishing crowd.

She pushed her way through the people next to her, covering her mouth with her hand like she was going to be sick again. I followed her silently not drawing attention to myself. All the kids were too busy laughing and gossiping to even notice I had left.

I followed her back up to the main building, breaking into a slow jog. She was bent over the grass vomiting. The sight made me feel a little sick too, but I didn't let that affect me. I just had to help her.

I slowed to a walk when I neared her, not wanting to frighten her. I picked her notes up off the ground from where they had fallen behind her, and when she was finished, stretched out my hand to help her up.

---ooo---

When she caught sight of my hand, she quickly looked up into my face, and grabbed my outstretched hand. I closed my fingers over her hers, marveling at how small her hand looked in my gigantic one. I pulled her up so she was standing. I was about to let go when she stumbled. I decided that if she couldn't stand she probably couldn't walk.

"Whoa, " I said, trying to keep my voice even. " Hold on. You better sit down." I backed her up to the building wall behind her and she slid down, leaning against the cool bricks.

I thought about what to do next. Then I remembered the small packet of tissues that was somewhere in my bag. Without saying anything, I dropped my bag on the ground and began rummaging around in it looking for the tissues.

My fingers grasped it near the bottom and I pulled it out. It was a little wrinkled but it would have to do. I leaned back and tried to straighten the pack as much as I could against my chest. I pulled one out and handed it to her. She took it with caution I noticed; maybe I was scaring her. But she took it nonetheless. I offered the whole pack to her, but she said that one was fine. I decided to place the pack by her foot anyway.

"Thank you," She said in a small voice.

"No problem,"

I sat down on the grass next to her, and looked at her face.

"So, um," I started, still looking at her, "are you okay?"

She didn't say anything at first but rather just nodded her head. "Yeah, I just got sick all of a sudden, I don't know…"

"I saw what happened," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Oh," She said even quieter than before a magnificent blush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah, that was… pretty bad."

"Could have been worse," I said – memories of what happened last year filled my head.

"You think"

"Sure, you could have punched her." I said softly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said nodding.

I didn't want her to get the idea in her head. "It's good you didn't, though. Wouldn't have been worth it."

"No?" she said with a question in her voice that made me mentally punch myself. She hadn't even thought of it before I brought it up. I didn't want her to make the same mistake as I had.

"No. Not even if it felt good at the time. Trust me."

The silence filled with understanding that passed between us was interrupted by a quiet vibrating sound. Annabel started rummaging in her bag and pulled out her phone checking the caller ID before picking it up.

From the exasperated look on her face through her whole phone conversation I guess she was talking to her mom. I tried not to listen, not wanting to seem like I was eves dropping in on her call, but I couldn't help hear her when she said something about trying to get a ride home with someone.

I couldn't help but wonder if I would be included in her list of _someones._ I pulled out my iPod and began messing around with it trying to seem like I wasn't just listening in on her conversation.

We sat there for a moment in silence once again. "So you need a ride." I said quickly. _Oh yeah. Nice job…acting like you weren't listening to her private conversation. Way to go._

"Oh no," She said quickly, suggesting that she really did need a ride. "It's just my sister…she's being a pain."

"Story of my life," I said hitting the play button on my iPod. As I slipped it into my pocket I could hear the low first notes of one of my favorite songs flow into my head. I got up, brushed off my jeans, and grabbed my bag. "Come on."

---ooo---

When we got to my car, I got in first and moved the CDs from the passenger seat so Annabel could actually sit down. Then I reached over and opened the door for her.

She got in and reached to put on her seatbelt.

"Hold on. That's sort of busted." I told her quickly before she tried to click the seatbelt into place. With all that had just happened, I forgot that the passenger seatbelt wouldn't work without a little help. In fact my whole car was basically a piece of crap, save for the new stereo system I had installed. I loved my stereo system. It was my baby.

I gestured for her to hand me the belt. I pulled it farther from the seat and slid it into the other part, making sure to not touch her and seem too forward. I reached over to my own door and grabbed the small hammer I kept there for times like these.

I glanced up at her face and saw that it held a frightened expression. I just then realized how strange it must look – me pulling a hammer out from some hidden place in my car and bringing it towards her.

"It's the only way it works." I explained quickly. I tapped the buckle with the hammer and pulled the belt to tighten it. Then I put the hammer back and started the car.

"Wow," she said tugging on the belt to make sure it was actually safe. "How do you get it off."

"Just push the button. That part's easy." I told her. She seemed satisfied with that and took to looking around the inside of my car, while I watched her out of the corner of my eye.

I rolled my window down and rested my arm on my door. It was really nice out.

I tried to see what my car looked like from her point of view. I must seem like a maniac. I have more CDs in my car than most music stores have in stock. I could still faintly hear music still coming from my iPod, and I opted to turn it off and listen to the stereo instead.

I didn't know if Annabel would like the type of music I listen to, but I thought it was worth a try. I was in the middle of a CD, if I could remember correctly. And the music would calm my nerves a little.

Before I made the next turn, I increase the volume of the radio and sat back listening to the music fill the silence that I couldn't stand. I nodded along to the voices resisting the urge to chant along.

"So, what is this?" Annabel asked beside me in what I took to be a surprised and slightly confused voice.

"Mayan spiritual chants." I replied looking over at her.

"What?" She said back. I guess she couldn't hear me over the music.

"Mayan spiritual chants," I repeated, louder. "They're passed down, like oral traditions."

"Oh," she said. "Where did you get this?"

I reached forward and turned the music down a little so we didn't have to yell over it before answering. "The library at the university. I checked it out of their sound-and-culture collection."

"Ah," she replied. It seemed like she was contemplating whether I was playing a joke on her, or if I was really that weird. "So you must _really _like music." She stated looking back at the massive amounts of CDs stacked around my car.

"Don't you?" I asked, not revealing how much I liked music…not yet at least.

"Sure," She replied. "I mean, everybody does, right?"

"No," I stated back truthfully.

"No?" she asked. I could tell I kind of lost her. I might as well explain.

"Some people _think_ they like music", I started, "but they have no idea what it's really all about. They're kidding themselves. Then there are people who feel strongly about music, but just aren't listening to the right stuff. They're misguided. And then there are people like me." I stopped, deciding that if she wanted to know more she would ask.

I could feel her studying me from where she sat. Wondering.

"People like you", she responded slowly after a moment. "What kind of people are those?"

I put my blinker on and prepared to turn into the middle school where Mallory would be waiting. I thought about how I could explain my obsession to her before we would be interrupted by Mallory.

"The kind who live for music and are constantly seeking it out, anywhere they can. Who can't imagine life without it. They're enlightened." Yes in the simplest terms, the most direct definition, that's what it was.

"Ah," her voice betrayed nothing. She actually got what I was saying. I knew she was different. Most people would think I was totally crazy but she acted like I had just told her what the weather was going to be like tomorrow.

"I mean when you really think about it, music is the great uniter. An incredible force. Something that people who differ on everything and anything else can have in common."

She nodded and I took that as a cue to continue.

"Plus there's the fact that music is a total consent. That's why we have such a strong visceral connection to it, you know? Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in you or the world, that one song stays the same, just like that moment. Which is pretty amazing, when you actually think about it."

I could have gone on talking about this for days. But I thought I might save that for some other time. If there ever _was_ another time. I hoped I hadn't completely turned her off with ability to ramble and intense mania with somewhat crazy music.

"What I mean to say," I began to tell her, "is yes. I like music."

"Got it," She said in return. And I could honestly tell she did.

"And now," I said as we turned into the middle school parking lot, " I'll apologize in advance."

She seemed a little surprised at what I said. "Apologize? For what?"

I turned the wheel slightly so I would come to a stop next to the curb. "My sister," I told her. I really hoped Mallory wasn't in one of her spaz moods. I didn't want her to be weird in front of Annabel. I watched as Annabel turned to look out the front window. Probably trying to figure out which little girl could be Mallory.

Just then, there was a loud noise outside her window followed by an excited voice.

"Oh my God!" Mallory gasped, "It's _you_!" Right then I knew that my hopes of Mallory acting somewhat calm were in vain. I think I could probably understand why though. The only other person who ever rides in my car with me is Rolly, so to see someone new sitting next to me was most likely a pleasant surprise. But I still couldn't understand what she meant by _it's you_.

Before I could warn Annabel any more, Mallory jumped away from her window and hurried to scramble into the back. The second she got in her shrieking continued.

"Owen, oh my God! You didn't tell me you were friends with Annabel Greene!"

"Mallory," I said to her looking back at her in the mirror, "Take it down a notch."

Of course she didn't listen to me as always. "This is unbelievable," she exclaimed again, this time leaning forward so she was in Annabel's face. "I mean, it's you!"

"Hi," Annabel said.

"Hi!" she shrieked, "Oh my God, I love your work, I really do."

"Work?" I asked, trying my best to keep up.

"Owen come on," Mallory said sighing. "She's a Lakeview Model, hello? And she's done tons of local ads. And that commercial, you know the one I love, with the girl in the cheerleading uniform?"

"No," I said back.

"That's her! I can't believe this. I can't wait to tell Shelley and Courtney, oh my God!" Saying this Mallory pulled out her cell phone to call her friends. "Oh! Maybe you can say hello to them, that would be so cool and—"

I turned around to face her. "Mallory."

"Just a sec," she said punching in numbers. "I just want to—"

"Mallory."

"Hold on Owen, okay?"

That was it, not only was she being loud and obnoxious but now she was being just plain rude. I reached out, took the phone out of her hands and place it in the console.

"Come on! I just wanted her to say hello to Courtney."

"No." I said sternly.

"Owen!"

"Put on your seatbelt," I replied trying to get her to settle down. "And take a breath."

With that I pulled away from the curb and was pleased to see that Mallory had done what I asked, even if she was being a brat about doing it.

Annabel glanced back at her, and Mallory immediately brightened.

"Is that a Lanoler sweater?" she asked quickly.

"A what?" Annabel asked, obviously as lost as I was.

She reached forward and began to, what seemed like _pet_ Annabel's sweater. "This. It's gorgeous. Is it a Lanoler?"

"You know, I'm not—" Annabel started before she was interrupted by Mallory's hand pulling out the label of her sweater checking to see if she was right.

"It is! I knew it. Oh my God, I want a Lanoler sweater so _bad_, I have forever—"

"Mallory," I said jumping in, "don't be a label whore."

I saw Mallory's jaw drop, and I knew what was coming. "Owen! R and R."

I looked at her again and, with a sigh, decided it wasn't worth fighting with her so I started again. "What I meant to say, Mallory, is that your focus on labels and material goods troubles me."

"Thank you," she replied. "And I understand and appreciate your concern. But, as you know, fashion is my life."

Annabel turned to me. "R and R?" she asked.

Before I could answer Mallory jumped in and did it for me.

"Rephrase and Redirect. It's part of his Anger Management. If he says something inflammatory, you can tell him it hurts your feelings, and he has to say it another way."

I looked at her in the mirror again. "Thank you Mallory."

"You're welcome," she returned smiling and bouncing up and down.

We drove in silence for a few moments while I let Annabel try and catch up. It has been awhile since I'd really spent time with anyone new, let alone with someone new and not a member of my family, so I could imagine how confused she might be. Most people think Anger Management is just about someone telling you happy things and trying to make you not mad anymore, but it's more than that. It's different.

"So I really appreciate the ride," Annabel said, breaking the silence. "I don't know how I would have gotten home otherwise."

"It's no problem," I replied. "I just have to make a couple of—"

"Oh my God," Mallory exclaimed excitedly from the back seat. "I'm going to get to see your _house_?"

"No," I replied shortly.

"But we're taking her home! I'm here!"

"We're dropping you off first." I told her.

"Why?" she said.

"Because, I have to go by the station, so Mom said to bring you by the store."

I turned off the main road, as Mallory started to whine. "But Owen—"

"No buts, It's already decided." I told her.

She started to pout, and feel back into her seat, deciding to take the time to be a drama queen. "It's so not fair."

"Life isn't fair," I told her before I could stop myself, "Get used to it."

"R and R!" She shot at me.

"No." I shot back.

I reached forward to turn up the music, and the chirping of the Mayan crickets began again. We drove along for a while, no one saying anything. The chanting comforted me and brought my annoyance level down a bit.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I say a blur of pink lean forward to say something to Annabel. "When you did that commercial," Mallory asked into her ear, "did you get to keep the clothes from that?"

"Mallory!" I snapped.

"What?"

"Can you just relax and listen to the music?"

"This isn't music! This is crickets and screaming." She then turned to Annabel and started speaking again. "Owen is a total music Nazi. He won't let anyone listen to anything other than the weird stuff he plays on his radio show."

"You have a radio show?" Annabel asked me, sounding intrigued.

"It's just a local thing," I told her quickly.

"It's his life," Mallory said to her. "He spends all week getting ready for it, worrying about it, even though it's on when normal people aren't even up yet."

"I'm not playing music for normal people," I countered. "I'm playing music for people who are—"

"Enlightened, we know," Mallory said dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Me personally? I listen to 104Z."

She went on to tell her all about how she loved the music they played on that joke they call a radio station, and how she could dance to it. When she got to how much she adored that fake, plastic, manufactured, _Bitsy Bonds_, I had had enough.

""Bitsy Bonds isn't a _singer_, Mallory. She's a product. She'd fake. She has no soul; she doesn't stand for anything."

"So?" She said, obviously not getting my point.

"So," I said, "she's more famous for her belly button than her music." I hoped that would drive it home, but as always Mallory was too blind to see the flaws of her idol.

"Well, she does have a _great_ belly button." Mallory said as we approached the store our mom owned.

I just shock my head, amazed at how well she had been brain washed. We pulled into a parking space in front of the shop. "Okay, we're here." I told Mallory, hinting at her to get lost. It took a minute of her complaining to Annabel about how she wouldn't wear the clothes my mom had in the store even if she was dead. I pointed out to her that she would have bigger problems than what she was wearing if she was dead, but she didn't say anything in return.

She finally got the hint, said good-bye to me and Annabel, and out of the car. When she got to the door to the little shop, she turned back and waved excitedly to Annabel. She waved back, and I pulled back onto the main road.

"Again," I started, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she told me. "She's cute."

I headed back towards the station. Anticipating what the rest of the ride was going to be like. I knew I'd have to give a blow by blow to Mallory, so she could know how a _real_ model acts.

---ooo---

_A/N: Yeah I know I kind of end it right in the middle of the car ride. But this is already really long, and I'm tired. So...I'm submitting this now, and hopefully in the next few days I will write the rest of the car ride scene. It's pretty intense, and it is also not easy to change all the "I said" "she said" things around. It's confusing. Please have a little patience...it's good for your constitution!_

_Thanks Again._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I do not own any of this. It's all Ms. Dessen's. _

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

"You don't have to live with her. Or have to listen to her music." I replied to her comment about Mallory being cute.

"104Z," she said, "All the hits, with less of the lip."

I looked at her quickly. "You listen to that station?"

"I have before," she started looking me in the eye before turning to look out the window. "Especially when I was in middle school."

I shook my head, not believing that she could have ever listen to that crap hole they call a radio station. But then again her situation is different than my sister's. "It would be different if she had no access to good music. If she was deprived of culture. But I've made her tons of CDs. She just won't listen to them." I started to explain to Annabel. "Instead she chooses to fill her head with that pop crap, listening to a station where they pretty much just play the occasional songs between commercials."

"So on your show," she said to me curiously, "it's different."

"Well yeah," I told her as we headed back onto the main road. "I mean its community radio, so there aren't commercials. But I think you should be responsible about what you're putting out there for people to hear. If it can be pollution or art, wouldn't you choose art?"

She looked at for me a moment. I couldn't believe I was having this conversation deep, intense as it was, with someone I had just really met for the first time today. Even more than that I could tell she really understood what I was saying. Even if she couldn't fully agree with me yet, she still acted genuinely interested in what I had to say.

She didn't really talk much, but I could tell from her body language and more so the look in her eyes, that she cared. _Dude, you're thinking this to death. She's probably just being polite._ I took her silence as a chance to ask her where she lived.

"The Arbors," she told me. "It's a few miles past the mall; you can just—"

"I know it," I cut her off. "The station is just a couple of blocks from there. I have to stop in there for a second, if that's okay."

"Sure," she said. "It's fine."

So she lived in the Arbors. The neighborhood is a bit fancy for my taste, but there are some nice houses. I had driven through there on several occasions, trying to avoid the traffic on my way to the radio station. I wondered if I had ever unknowingly seen her house.

I drove up to the station and pulled into a parking space in front of the building.

"Back in a sec," I told her after digging through the CDs in the back and finding the one's I wanted.

"Okay," she nodded.

I walked into the building and into the glass box where I ran my station. I put the CDs next to a stack of others and began sorting them out putting them in the order I had predetermined earlier that day. I could tell that this week was going to be a good show. I had found this great techno-like track by a band named K's Dream. It's really nothing but two guys and several soundboards but man, is it amazing.

I'd heard some of their work before, but this song blew all the others out of the water!

When I finished, I quickly headed back out to the car, eager to get back to the conversation Annabel and I were having. I wondered what she really thought of the Mayan chanting. Maybe I would ask her.

I stepped out of the small building and saw Rolly's car next to mine. He had obviously been talking to Annabel before I walked out.

"Hey," Rolly called out to me from inside his car. "I was just driving by and I saw your car. I thought you had to work today."

"At six," I replied to him. Just then I noticed something that Rolly had obviously forgotten.

"Oh. Well that's cool," Rolly said, obviously trying to act cool in front of Annabel. "Maybe I'll come by or something."

"Do that," I told him, "And Rolly?"

"Yeah?"

"You know you still have your helmet on right?" I felt bad for crushing his confidence like that, but I had to tell him.

Rolly, eyes wide, reached up to see if I was telling the truth. When he realized I was, his face turned bright red. "Oh," he said in embarrassment while pulling it off. "Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem. I'll see you in a bit." I told him, giving him a look that said I was sorry for embarrassing him.

"Okay." He said.

I got back into my car, and started it up. Annabel smiled and waved as we pulled out of the small parking lot. She still seemed a little confused so I tried to explain it to her.

"It's for his job. Just so you know."

"The helmet," she said making sure we were on the same page.

"Yeah. He works at this self-defense place. He's an attacker."

"An attacker?" she asked.

"The one people practice on," I told her. "You know, once they learn the techniques. That's why he has to wear padding."

"Oh," she said. "So…you guys work together?"

"No. I deliver pizzas. This is it right?" I asked her as we came up to the entrance of the subdivision she lived in.

She nodded and I turned in. "He does the radio show with me."

"Does he go to Jackson?"

"Nope. The Fountain School." The Fountain School was a school that encouraged free expression. Mostly wackos and hippies went there, but I thought of Rolly as an exception to this stereotype. After all, he was enlightened.

"Left or right?" I asked her as we came up to a stop sign.

"Straight. For a while," she told me. I followed her direction and continued into the neighborhood.

"So," she asked me after a few moments in silence. "How'd you end up with a radio show?"

"It's something I've always been sort of interested in," I started. "And right after I moved here, I heard about this course they have at the station where they teach the basics. After you take it, you can write up a show proposal. If they approve it, they give you an audition, if they like what you do, a time slot.

"Me and Rolly got ours last winter. But then I got arrested. So that put us back a bit."

I was trying to sound cool and calm telling her about my arrest. But in truth, I was sort of embarrassed. It was a stupid mistake I made. A stupid, stupid mistake.

"You got arrested?" She asked me after a moment.

"Yeah. I got in a fight at a club. With a guy in the parking lot."

"Oh, right." She said like she had already known this.

"You heard about it?" Frankly, I wasn't surprised. It seemed like everyone knew. But it wasn't for the reason everyone thought it was.

"Maybe something," she replied.

"So why'd you ask?" I know I was being a little mean and pushy but I just wanted to know more about her. About how her mind worked. I looked at her and was strangely pleased to see a blush creep up her cheeks.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "Do you believe everything you hear?"

She had me there. "No. I don't."

We sat there not talking for a while until she broke the silence.

"It's not true if that's what you were wondering." Now she had really lost me. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"What isn't?" I said.

"What you heard about me," I still didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but I could guess it had something to do with what happened today after school.

"I haven't heard anything about you," I told her truthfully.

"Yeah, right."

"I haven't," I assured her. "I'd tell you if I had."

"Really."

"Yeah," I said. She still looked doubtful, so I went further. "I don't lie."

"You don't lie," she repeated.

"That's what I said."

"Ever," she asked, obviously looking for an exception.

"Nope," I assured her again.

She was looking at me as if she thought I was lying about not lying.

"Well, that's a good policy. If you can stick to it." She was baiting me. Trying to get me to say I really was lying to her. How could I make her understand I was telling the truth?

"I don't have a choice," I started. "Holding stuff in doesn't really work for me. Learned that the hard way." _Damn right I did._

"So you're always honest."

"Aren't you?" I countered.

"No," she said quickly. "I'm not." Well at least she honest about that.

"Well, that's good to know, I guess"

"I'm not saying I'm a liar," she told me trying to cover up what she had revealed. I raised an eyebrow daring her to continue. "That's not how I _meant_ it, anyway."

"How'd you mean it?" I questioned her.

It's just…" she tried to explain. "I don't always say what I feel."

"Why not?"

"Because the truth sometimes hurts." _True_.

"Yeah," I said. "So do lies, though."

"I don't…" she trailed off, telling me there was a lot more to this than I originally thought. "I just don't like to hurt people. Or upset them. So sometimes, you know, I won't say exactly say what I think, to spare them that."

"But that's still a lie," I told her. "Even if you mean well."

"You know," she replied. "I find it really hard to believe you're always honest." This wasn't a surprise. Most people don't. But as much as my honesty sometimes hurts people, what happens when I'm not honest, hurts even more.

"Believe it. It's true."

She turned so she was facing me. "So if I were to ask you if I looked fat in this outfit, and you thought I did, you'd say so."

"Yes," I replied looking at her.

"You would not." The look on her face was priceless. As if she could ever look fat in anything. She really was beautiful. I felt a little bad telling her this but…she did ask.

"I would. I might not say it that way, exactly, but if I thought you didn't look good—"

"No way,"

"And you'd asked," I continued, "I'd tell you. I wouldn't just offer it up though. I'm not a hateful person. But if you asked for my opinion, I'd give it."

She shook her head, not really believing what I was telling her.

"Look, like I said, for me not saying how I feel when I feel it is a bad move. So I don't do it. Look at it this way," I offered her, "I might be saying your fat, but at least I'm not punching you in the face."

"Are those the only options?" she asked.

"Not always. Just sometimes. And it's good to know your options, right?"

I could tell she had finally begun to believe me. Not fully, but the thought of me being a completely honest person was slowly seeping into her head.

"Still straight?" I asked as we came up to another stop sign.

"Um, no," she told me distracted by something else.

"Then…what? Right? Left?" I looked at her; eyes open wide, a look of confusion and concern spreading across her face. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"That's my sister," she told me quietly nodding towards something farther down the road.

I leaned forward focusing on the car she had nodded to. I noticed a girl sitting at the wheel with her hand over her face.

"Is…is she okay?" I asked cautiously. I didn't want it to seem like I was butting in, but I was worried. Annabel looked…scared.

"No," she answered honestly. "She's not."

I didn't know what to say to this. "Oh." I waited a moment before saying anything else. "Well, do you want to—" I started.

"No," she said. "Take a right."

I did what she said. As we drove past her sister she slid down in her seat. I wondered what was wrong. Why was her sister sitting in her car in the middle of her neighborhood? Why had Annabel acted the way she did? I watched her as we drove past, trying to figure this out.

"She's sick," she told me suddenly. "She has been for a while now."

"I'm sorry," I told her. And I was. The more time I spent with her, the more she surprised me. Although, this wasn't a good surprise, it made her more human.

"Which is yours?" I asked her as we turned onto what I guessed was her street.

"The glass one," she told me.

"The glass—" I began, but then stopped when her house came into view. "Oh. Right."

Her house was…beautiful. With the sun reflecting off of it the whole house seemed to light up. It was like someone had cut off the front of a normal house so you could see inside. I could see who I guessed was her mother, standing in the kitchen. She started to walk towards the door but stopped. She did however continue to look at us.

"Man," I said in disbelief. "That's really something."

"People in glass houses."

"Well," she said after a moment, "Thanks for the ride. For everything."

"No problem," I said. Just then, a car came up behind us and pulled into the driveway. It looked like it was her sister we had passed on the road.

As she got out she noticed the two of us sitting there. Annabel raised her hand and waved at her but she just walked up to the house and went inside.

We sat there for another moment in silence. Then she turned to me and asked, "So when is it? You're radio show."

"Sundays at seven." I said.

"I'll listen," she told me.

"In the morning," I added wondering if that would affect whether she listened or not.

"Seven in the _morning_?" She asked. "Really?"

"Yeah," I replied. "It's not the most ideal time slot, but you take what you can get. Insomniacs are listening at least."

"_Enlightened_ insomniacs," she said smiling.

I looked at her for a second. I had to admit, I was surprised. I shouldn't have been, but I was. She had really listened and understood what I had said. She had gotten it. To people who really cared about music, and genuinely wanted to become more enlightened in the art of music, wouldn't care if my show was at _two_ in the morning. They would listen.

It's not about when, but rather what.

"Yeah," I said smiling, "Exactly."

"Well," she said eventually. "I guess I should go."

"Okay, I'll see you around."

She nodded and reached down to take off her seat belt. She seemed a little surprised that the belt, that had been so hard to get one, came off in one easy click.

She got out, and I put the car into gear and beeped the horn before driving off. It was weird, but now that Annabel was no longer sitting beside me, my car seemed somewhat empty. I had always thought my car was too small; filled with all my CDs and forgotten clothes, but now it was too big.

I reached back and grabbed a different CD, when I got to the first stop sign. I ejected the Mayan chanting CD, and put it in. I waited for the opening chords, and when they came I turned it up so the car was filled with scale after scale of the music – a drastic mix of piano and electric guitar, alternating notes.

I began to drive again; nodding my head and drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.

_God, she was amazing._

_A/N: Don't forget to REVIEW!! I'll try to update again before the end of the weekend. Probably by tomorrow night. I'm just such a nerd - I have nothing better to do. Haha. Good for you I guess._

_Thanks._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I do not own any of this. It's all Ms. Dessen's. I realize that I am using some of the same dialogue lines, but that is what happens when you write a story like this. I just want to make it clear. The whole story is Ms. Dessen's - this is just what I think is running through Owen's mind._

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View 

All through my morning classes at school on Monday I couldn't concentrate. I kept wondering whether Annabel had listened Sunday or not. I really hoped she did so I could get some feedback about the show.

I couldn't help doubting that Annabel had listened to the whole thing, if she had listened at all. It _is_ on early, and from her reaction, I guessed she had not seen that time in the morning during the weekend for a long time.

The time didn't really bother me any more. Yesterday, I easily got up a little after 6:00, showered, chugged a glass of orange juice, and got to the station with thirty minutes to spare. I spent the extra time reviewing all the songs with Rolly, making sure they were in a logical order. It's an exact science.

The show this week went really well. When we went out for breakfast afterwards, even Rolly said it might just be one of our best shows in a long time. We were both really proud of what we had made. Especally for me, Anger Management, as Mallory put it, was my life.

Up until the time when I met Annabel ninety-five percent of my time and focus had been commited to the show. But Annabel threw me into a whirlwind and I wasn't able to right myself.

When lunch finally came I quickly made my way to the wall, but Annabel made it before me.

I sat down, waiting for her to start the conversation. After a few minutes I was sick of waiting. I pulled my headphones out of my ears and turned to her.

"So", I started, "did you listen?"

She put her sandwich down and turned to me. "To your show?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She nodded. "I did actually."

"And?" I pushed.

She paused for a moment. "Well, it was…interesting."

"Interesting," I repeated. That was a serious placeholder. She was holding something back.

"Yeah," she said. "I'd, um, never heard those songs before."

I studied her for a moment. I wondered if she was just trying to save my feelings. Man, I hated when people did that. I think that if you feel a certain way, you should just come out and say it. The thought that maybe she didn't even listen crossed my mind too.

Before my brain knew what my body was doing, I had gotten up and quickly closed the distance between Annabel and me. I sat down next to her and turned to look at her.

"Okay," I started. "Did you really listen?"

She looked a little startled. I didn't know if it was because I had broken our unspoken agreement and had come to sit by her, or because of my blunt question.

"Yeah," she said, her voice shaking a little. "I did."

"I don't know if you remember," I said, "but you _did_ tell me that you lie."

"I didn't say that," she said quickly. I raised an eyebrow. "I said I often hold back the truth. I'm not doing that this time, though. I listened to the whole show."

I still doubted her.

She took a breath. "'Jennifer' by Lipo, 'Descartes Dream' by Misanthrope. Some song with a lot of beeping—"

"You _did_ listen." I interrupted her. I sat back satisfied and happy that she really had listened. "Okay then. Now tell me what you really thought."

"I told you. It was interesting."

There was that 'word' again. "Interesting," I said, "is not a word".

"Since when."

"It's a placeholder. Something you use when you don't want to say something else." I leaned closer to her. "Look, if you're worried about my feelings, don't be. You can say whatever you want. I won't be offended."

"I did. I liked it." She still insisted. I knew she was lying.

"Tell the truth. Say something. Anything. Just spit it out."

"I—" she began. "I…I didn't like it."

I slapped my leg. "I _knew_ it! You know, for someone who lies a lot, you're not very good at it."

"I'm not a liar," she said.

"Right. You're _nice_."

"What's wrong with nice?" She asked.

Obviously she didn't know that there we many kinds of nice people in the world. For example there are nice people who tell you what they think you want to hear, and nice people who tell you what you need to hear.

A lot of the time, the later are considered _mean_. But how could you be mean for telling the truth? If someone asks a question, don't they want an honest answer? If they don't, they why do they ask in the first place?

"Nothing," I replied, "except it usually involves not telling the truth. Now. Tell me what you really thought."

I really did want to know what she was thinking. She was so hard to read, other than the fact that she's a pretty bad liar. I never knew what she was thinking. Did she think I was crazy?

"I liked the show format," she said, "but the songs were kind of…"

"Kind of what?" I prodded. "Give me some adjectives. Other than interesting."

She looked at me for a moment as if wondering if she really had permission to tell me what she thought. I could tell she was bent on not hurting my feelings. What did I have to do to help her realize that she won't. I've heard nearly all of it before.

I set my face in a stone look that I hoped would let her know that she should just let it out. I didn't want to be lied to.

"Noisy," she said. "Bizarre."

"Okay. What else?"

I really wasn't bothered by what she said. I just wanted to _know_. I always liked to find out what people thought.

"Well, the first song was…painful to listen to. And the second, the Misanthrope…"

"Descartes Dream."

"It put me to sleep. Literally."

"That happens. Go on."

"The harp music sounded like something you'd hear at a funeral."

"Ah," I said. "Okay. Good." I had never heard that one before. Usually people, myself included, found it calming.

"And I hated the techno."

"All of it?" I asked.

"Yes."

I had to admit, this I did not expect. She seemed like the techno type of person. I guess it was just an example of how little I actually knew about her.

I nodded. "Well. Okay, then. That's good feedback. Thank you."

I didn't want to push her any more. She really was starting to look at me like I was little strange. I pulled out my iPod and with a few clicks, I was scrolling through all the songs on it, looking for the ones we had just discussed.

I didn't know what I was going to do with them but I decided to make a playlist out of them. I wanted to listen to them again with this new knowledge from Annabel.

"So…you're okay with that?" she asked after a few moments.

"That you didn't like the show?" I replied.

"Yeah."

I shrugged, still not looking at her. "Sure. I mean, it would have been cool if you had. But most people don't, so it's not exactly surprising."

"And that doesn't bother you," she said.

"Not really. I mean, at first, it was kind of disappointing. But people recover from disappointment. Otherwise, we'd all be hanging from nooses. Right?"

"What?" She asked, seeming confused.

"Hey," I said coming across another song from yesterday's show on my iPod, "what about the sea shanty? The men chanting about sailing the open sea. What was you're take on that one?"

"Weird," she said. "Very weird."

"Weird," I repeated slowly. "Huh. Okay."

She was quite for a moment. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and saw that she was looking across the courtyard. I followed her gaze, keeping my head down, to Sophie. She and her friend were staring at us.

They were probably wondering why Annabel was sitting with me. We were a pretty strange pair sitting here and talking. I didn't really mind. They didn't even know what we were talking about. But from the look on her face, I knew Annabel cared.

I decided to lead on that I hadn't noticed anything and continues to look through the songs on my iPod. Then I thought it might be a good idea to distract Annabel from Sophie. I didn't really want her to get sick again.

I ran my hand through my hair. "So," I started, "you didn't like any of the techno? Like not even one aspect?"

"No," she said shaking her head. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's you're opinion. There's no right and wrong in music, you know? Just everything in between."

Just then the bell rang. It seemed like the lunch period had gone faster then usual.

"Well," she said as I hopped off the wall. "I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah," I said putting my earphones on. "See you later."

I began to walk away thinking about the discussion we had just had. I was amazed that I had been able to have such an intense conversation with her. I was a friendly person, most of the time, but I didn't normally throw myself out there like I just had with her.

I didn't know what it was but she made me feel at ease. I could be myself.

I had pushed and prodded her into telling me what she really thought, and she did. I wondered if maybe she felt a little at ease with me too.

She had told me that she was the type of person who didn't normally express how she really felt. She was _nice_. I just didn't know which kind of nice…yet.

---ooo---

_A/N: Sorry it took me a while to update, and that this chapter is kind of short. I've been really busy, and I'm having a hard time deciding whether I want to really get into the family life Owen has, or not. I'm still deciding._

_Thanks to all the reviewers...you make me happy. I'll try to update as soon as I can but I can't promise anything._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I do not own any of this story. It all belongs to Ms. Dessen. This is just what I think is going throught Owen's mind. Especally this chapter...Read and review._

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

The next day at lunch, I made my way to my usual place at the wall a little later than usual. My English teacher had made me stay after class so she could talk to me about my inattentiveness.

When I got close to the wall, I saw Annabel sitting there staring at a piece of paper in her hands. I walked up so I was directly in front of her, but she still did not notice me.

"Bad news?" I asked.

She jumped as if I had scared her. "What?"

"You look stressed. Something wrong." I nodded to the note in her hands.

"No," she said folding the note in half and putting it away. "Everything's fine."

I didn't say anything at first. I walked up to the wall sitting down a few feet away from her but not as far as those first few days. I leaned back and looked around the courtyard.

I knew she was lying to me but I didn't say anything. If she wanted to tell me, she would do it in her own time.

It was weird, but I always knew when someone was lying. It must have something to do with the fact that I don't lie. Maybe because I don't, I know when some one is, or isn't. I notice the absence or presence of truth.

My mom and sister have grown used to this. They know not to lie to me. I guess it takes a little to convince other people not to lie to me. They are still stuck in the mindset that they are going to hurt my feelings by telling me what they really think. What they don't know is that it actually hurts more when people don't tell me what they think.

We sat there a moment not saying anything. I didn't push her intentionally, but maybe my silence did. She started telling me what was really wrong.

"It's just this thing with my mom," she said.

I turned to. "Thing," I repeated. "Just so you know that's a _serious_ placeholder."

She looked at me for a moment before replying. "It has to do with my modeling."

"Modeling?" I was a little confused at first. Then I remembered that was how Mallory knew her in the first place. "Oh, right. Like Mallory was talking about. You were in a commercial or something."

"I've been doing it since I was a kid. Both of my sisters did it, too. But lately, I've been wanting to quit.

"And anyway," she continued when I didn't say anything, "it's complicated, because my mom's really into it, and if I quit, she'd be upset."

"But you don't want to do it anymore," I said, "Right?"

"Yeah."

"So you should tell her that."

"You say it like it's easy," she said to me.

"Isn't it?" I questioned back. It made sense that if you didn't want to do something anymore, you should stop. If you continue your only lying to yourself and the other people involved. It's also an extreme waste of time.

"No," she told me. There was a burst of laughter from the doors to the school as a group of hyperactive freshmen came bounding out. I glanced over at them and then back to Annabel.

"Why not?" I asked her.

"Because I don't do confrontations," she stated.

I remembered what happened between her and Sophie after school that one day. I looked over to where she sat with her friend and then slid my eyes back to Annabel asking the question with my eyes.

"Well," she said. "I don't do confrontations _well_."

"What happened between you two, anyway?"

"Me and Sophie?" She asked although I knew she knew what I was talking about. "It was just… we had a falling out over the summer."

I didn't say anything knowing there was more to the story than just that.

"She thinks I slept with her boyfriend," she added. I should have guessed it was something like that, but I couldn't really see Annabel doing something like that. But maybe I didn't really know that side of her? I prayed it wasn't true.

"Did you?" I asked, needing to know for some strange reason.

"No," she said after a moment. "I didn't."

"Maybe you should tell her that." It was the only thing I could to think to say. What else would you do?

"It's not that simple." She said that a lot. What in life but simple?

"Huh," I said. "Call me crazy, but I'm sensing a theme here." It seemed that everything I suggested she brushed it off as not being that easy. Yeah it would probably be a little difficult at first but, I was willing to bet that if she gave it a try she would see that it isn't that hard in the long run.

"So if you were me," she started, "you would—"

"—just be honest. On both counts."

"You say that like it's easy, too."

"It's not. But you can do it. It just takes practice."

"Practice?" she seemed confused.

I explained to her how in Anger Management we role-played so we could see how you could tell someone something without being embarrassed or scared. I told her how helpful it was although it was a little awkward in the beginning. It really mapped things out for you and showed you that the hardest part of expressing yourself is getting over the initial first words. After that it's easy.

"Oh," she said. "Well I guess that makes sense."

"All right then," I said, intending to show her exactly how it worked. I moved a little closer. "So say I'm your mom."

"What?" she asked confused yet again.

"I'm your mom," I said again. "Now tell me you want to quit modeling."

"I can't do that," she said, a delicious blush rising on her cheeks.

"Why not?" I asked. "Is it so hard to believe? You think I'm not a good role-player?" _Hah!_

"No, it's just—"

"Because I am," I continued. "_Everyone_ wanted me to be their mother in group."

It was true. I was quite the motherly figure. I don't know why, but early on I decided to just go with it.

"It's just…" she stuttered. "It's weird."

"No it's hard. But not impossible. Just try it."

"Okay," she agreed. "So—"

"Mom," I interrupted.

"What?"

"The more accurate the exercise, the more effective it is," I explained. "Go all out or, or don't go at all."

"Okay. Mom." She started again.

"Yes?" I said.

"The thing is, I know that the modeling thing is really important to—"

I held up my hand. "Rephrase and Redirect that."

"Why?" she asked.

"Thing. Like I said, major placeholder, super vague. In confrontations, you have to be a specific as possible, to avoid misunderstandings." I leaned closer to her. "Look, I know it's weird. But it works. I promise."

"I know my modeling is very important to you," she said still a little red, "and that you really enjoy it."

I nodded pushing her to go on.

"But to be honest…" she started to falter. "It's just that lately, I've been thinking about it a lot, and I feel like…"

I waited patiently for her to continue. I knew she could do this. She was right on the edge; so close to letting go and telling me, as her mom, how she felt. This was the hardest part, deciding whether to jump or not. I knew that she could do it though.

"I can't do it," she said looking away from me.

"You so had it though," I said loudly hitting the wall with the palm of my hand. It stung a little but didn't hurt. "You were right there."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just…I can't."

I looked at her. She looked defeated and angry with herself for not being able to go through with it. Yes, she would defiantly be able to tell her mom. Maybe not today, tomorrow, or next week, but eventually she would.

"All right," I said shrugging my shoulders. "No big deal."

We sat there for a moment. I thought about her and what she had told me earlier. In my opinion, I thought she should just say what she needed to say to whomever she needed to say it to. Holding all that in is so much harder.

"Look," I said, "I'm just going to say this: It's got to suck, you know? Keeping something like that in. Walking around everyday having so much you want to say, but not doing it. It's gotta make you really mad. Right?"

She looked at me for a moment. I thought she might say something, maybe tell me what was really wrong. I could tell that something else was wrong. There was more to her problems than she was telling me. I didn't want to be all nosy and get in her business or anything like that. But I wanted to know why she wouldn't tell me.

She had opened the door to what was going on in her life just a crack. She had given me a glimpse into her mind. I couldn't help wanting more.

"I should go," she said bringing me away from my thoughts and back down to earth. "I…I have to talk to my English teacher about this project I'm supposed to do."

"Oh," I said. She was totally lying. Right to my face. I guess I should have expected as much though. "Sure."

She stood up and grabbed her bag off the ground. "I'll, um, see you later."

"Right." I said quickly, picking up my iPod. "See you around."

She started to walk away and I resisted the urge to call out to her. I didn't really want her to go. But I really had to work on the radio show.

I turned on my iPod, and started flicking through the songs looking for ones I might want to play.

---ooo---

The rest of the day blew past. Before I know it, school was out.

It wasn't until I was walking out to the parking lot that I remembered I didn't have my car.

My car battery had been dead when I went out to it this morning, ready to drive to school. I guess I had left a light on or something. I don't really know. All I do know is that I was pissed.

I remembered the events of that morning including the conversation I had had with Mallory.

"Owen, what are we going to do?" Mallory asked me as we were standing in the kitchen.

Our mother leaves at five to open the store so she couldn't drive us and since my list of friends was short, I didn't know who I could call to get a ride. Why today?

"I don't know Mallory," I snapped at her. I couldn't help it, I was just so mad. "If I knew what to do, don't you think I would have done it already?"

I shouldn't have yelled at her. I had to get my temper under control. I pulled my head out of my hands and looked at her.

Her face was covered in hurt. Overly sensitive as she was, her feelings were easily damaged.

"I'm sorry Mallory. I just—"

"No. It's okay," she said holding up her hand. "You're mad, it's fine. Just calm down, okay?"

I took a few deep breaths, calming myself. I had to think of something.

I reached for the phone on the wall and dialed the number I knew by heart. He answered groggily after a few rings.

"It's early," Rolly's voice greeted me. Since his parents sent him to the Fountain School, Rolly didn't have to get up for school until nine. That meant that he got to sleep in all week.

"I know man, but I need help." I said. I looked over at Mallory who was now sitting at the table tracing the lines in the wood of the table.

"What?" he asked.

"I need a ride." I said.

"What?"

"I need a ride." I repeated.

"Why?" he asked seeming more awake.

"My battery died." I explained. "And I am supposed to drop Mallory off this morning."

"Oh," he said. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks Rolly."

"Yeah, yeah. What else is there to do anyway? Well sleep but that's beside the point. I got you."

"Thanks again. See you in fifteen."

"Yup."

I hung up the phone and went to sit at the kitchen table with Mallory.

"Rolly's coming?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she glanced up at the clock about the kitchen sink. "We're gonna be late."

"I know Mallory, but there's nothing I can do about it." I said folding my hands on the table in front of me.

"What about this afternoon?" she asked, "Who's gonna pick me up then?"

"I'll call mom when I get to school."

"I can get a ride." She suggested.

"Fine. Whatever. Just call mom and tell her what you're doing."

"I will, Owen." She said with an edge in her voice.

"Look I'm sorry. If I would have known that my car was going to break down this morning, I would have got someone to drive you earlier."

"That's not it." She said putting her head on the table.

"What is it then?" I asked.

"Nothing." She replied.

"No. You can't just do that."

"Do what?" she asked.

"Act like something's wrong and then say there isn't." I told her. "You know better than to lie to me. Just spit it out."

"This wouldn't have happened if dad was still here." She said, her voice muffled by the table.

I didn't say anything for a long moment. I should have known it was something like that. The divorce had been hard on Mallory. She tried to act like she wasn't affected by it, but I knew she was.

"Don't talk like that," I said in a voice that was quiet but stern. "It has nothing to do with my car not working."

"I know," she said lifting her head. "But if he was here, maybe he could have driven us, or maybe you would have a better car that wouldn't die. Or—"

"Mallory," I said looking into her eyes. "you can't do that. Yeah your right, things might have been different if mom and dad were still together, but you can't play the "what if" game. Dad's not here, that's all that matters. We don't know what it would be like if he was."

"It's so easy for you." She said turning her face away from me. "You have your music, and everything. It's like you don't even care."

"You know that's not true. Mallory I do care—"

"Do you know what it's like?" She asked turning back to me, her voice loud. Having all your friends talk about how their dad took them to dinner, or brought them back something from wherever. It sucks. Dad only calls when he has too, he barely ever comes to see us."

"I know."

"I hate it."

"Mallory, I know it's hard. Believe me I know. But you have to let it go. That's just how dad it. Mom and I will always be there for you." I reached out and brushed her straight hair back away from her face.

"Okay," she said.

Just then I heard a horn beep from outside.

"That's Rolly." I said.

"Okay, I'll get my stuff." She walked into the living room where she dropped her bag, and I grabbed mine from the counter. I took my iPod and slipped it into my pocket, hanging the earphones from my neck.

I had instructed Rolly to drive fast, and both Mallory and I got to school a few minutes before classes started.

During a free period, I had called my mom to see if she could pick me up since Rolly had to be at work early this afternoon and couldn't give me a ride.

Unfortunately, she couldn't because she was getting a delivery of some new materials, and had to wait for the delivery guy. I told her it wasn't a big deal; that I could get a ride from someone.

Of course the someone I had in mind was Annabel, but at lunch, I had forgotten to ask her. I mentally hit myself, knowing it was too late now. I would have to walk.

I reached into my pocket and changed the song on my iPod to the new Languid Athletes song, and started to walk again.

I made my way off of school grounds and towards the main road. When there was a break in traffic, I ran across the street and began to walk down the median, the cars speeding by.

I had only been walking for a few minutes, when I heard a loud beep right next to me. I looked over and saw Annabel sitting in her car next to me. I had been so absorbed in the music coming from my iPod that I hadn't even noticed her car pull up.

At first I thought I might be hallucinating. Maybe all the exhaust from the cars was getting to me.

"Hey," I said, making sure I wasn't just seeing things. "What's up?"

"What happened to your car?" she asked ignoring my question.

I stopped walking and pulled an earphone out of my ear so I could hear her better. "Transportation issues," I said not wanting to get into all the details in the middle of a busy street.

"Story of my life," she said reaching over to open the passenger door for me. "Get in."

_A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. I've been really busy. And this chapter was kinda hard because I had to make up a lot like the whole story of why he didn't have his car, and all the divorce stuff. So yeah, read and review...I'll update as soon as I can. Thanks to all of the people who reviewed. You make me eternally happy...I hope you know that._


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I do not own any of this story. It is all Ms. Dessen's. This is just what I think might be going through Owen's mind. I am not making any money off of this. Read and Review...spread the happiness._

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

Graceful as I am, the first thing I did after I got into Annabel's car, right there in the middle of the road, was hit my head on the ceiling. _Very smooth Owen. Very smooth._

"Off," I said rubbing my forehead as my knee hit the dashboard. "Man, this is one small car."

"Is it?" she said as she pulled back into the light traffic. "I've never really noticed, and I'm five-eight."

"Is that tall?" Man, I was five-eight in like, junior high.

"I used to think so," she said glancing at me.

"Well, I'm six-four," I said trying to get comfortable with no avail. There was just no room for me in this little box of a car. Oh well. It happens. "So I guess it's all relative."

"You okay?" she asked.

"Fine," I said, "Thanks for the ride by the way."

"No problem," she said. "Just tell me where you're going."

"Home." I moved around a little more. "Just keep straight. You don't have to turn for a while."

We sat for a while in silence. Deafening silence. I've always hated silence. To me it's always been horrible, unnatural. Life isn't silent. In fact, it's anything but. Silence is an absence of sound, just like black is an absence of color.

Black is colorless because it absorbs rather than reflects the light that makes things colorful. Silence absorbs everything around it. It spreads like disease, and consumes all that is life.

People say they hate noise. But noise is what makes the world beautiful, it makes things that much more real. Without sound, there would be no need for anything else. What purpose would a mockingbird have if it weren't to sing beautiful songs to us?

It's the same with music. What is life without music? Music is art; it is expression of the soul.

_Wow, that was intense._

I guess the simplest way to put it is - I can't deal with silence.

"How can you _stand_ it?" I said finally breaking the silence.

She looked at me a bit startled. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean," I started, trying to explain my sudden outburst, "It's just so silent. Empty."

"What is?" She asked, obviously still confused.

"This," I said waving my hands to the inside of the car. "Driving in silence. With no music."

"Well," she said slowly, "to be honest, I didn't realize we were, actually."

I sat back bumping my head on the headrest. "See for me, it's immediate. Silence is so freaking loud."

"Well," she said, "my CDs are in the console in the center if you—"

I didn't need more than that. I reached in between us and took out a stack of CDs. I began to go through them. _Well, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. _

"Those aren't my favorites," she said trying to spare herself from whatever she thought I would say. "They're just the ones I have in here right now."

"Huh," I said in reply not looking up. "Drake Peyton, Drake Peyton…so you're into that frat-boy hippie rock stuff?"

"I guess," she said not sure of herself. "I saw him live the summer before last."

"Huh," I said again. _It could be worse. _"More Drake Peyton…and Alamance. That's alt-country, right?"

"Yeah." Well Alamance wasn't that bad. At least they weren't mainstream, sellouts.

"Interesting," I said still flipping through the stack. "Because I would have pegged you for…Tiny? This is his most current album, right?"

"I go it over the summer," she offered.

"Then it is." I shook my head surprised. "You know I have to admit, I'm surprised. I never would have pegged you for a Tiny fan. Or any rap for that matter."

"Why not?" she asked looking at me.

"I don't know. Bad assumption, I guess. Who made you this one?" I held up a burned CD so Annabel could see it.

"My sister Kristen." Ah, the other sister. She had said she had two.

"She's into classic rock," I said.

"Since high school," she said nodding. "She had a Jimmy Page poster on her wall for years."

"Ah," I said skimming over the track list printed on the CD. "She has good taste, though. I mean, there's Led Zeppelin here, but at least it's not 'Stairway to Heaven.' In fact, 'Thank You' is my favorite Led Zeppelin song."

I was impressed. For one thing, you can't rightfully call yourself a Led Zeppelin fan, or even a classic rock fan for that matter, if the only Led Zeppelin song you know is 'Stairway to Heaven.' Nope, that's not how it works. That's the easy choice.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really. It's got that kind of cheesy, power-ballad feel. Kind of ironic, yet truthful. Can I put it on?" I asked.

"Sure," she said. "Thanks for asking."

"You gotta ask," I said putting the CD into her stereo. "Only a real asshole takes liberties with someone else's car stereo. That's serious."

I sat and waited to hear the opening chords. I reached for the volume button, glancing at her first. When she nodded, I turned it up.

The music began to fill the car, swallowing the silence in one deep gulp. I sat back and let the music take me over.

"So about today," she said. "I'm sorry about what happened."

I couldn't help being a little confused. "What happened?" I said looking at her.

"When we were doing the role-playing, and I freaked out and walked away." Oh so that's what she was talking about.

"That was freaking out?"

"Well," she said. "I guess. Yeah."

"Huh. Okay"

"I didn't mean to get so upset," she explained. "Like I said, I just don't do confrontations very well. Which I guess was obvious. So…I'm sorry."

"It's all right," I said, surprised that was her 'freaking out'. "In fact…"

"What?" she asked when I didn't finish what I was saying.

"It's just that to me," I started, "that wasn't really freaking out."

"No?" she said.

"To me, freaking out is raising your voice. Screaming. Veins bulging. Hitting people in parking lots. That kind of thing."

"I don't do that," she said looking at me.

"I'm not saying you should," I told her running a hand through my hair.

I was no stranger to freaking out. I had lost my temper one two many times and have had to pay for it. I was a little ashamed. Here was Annabel, a good girl who always did what she was told. And then there's me. The guy who is so angry, he can barely keep from hitting everyone who gets in his way.

"It's just a semantic issue, I guess. Take this next right." I told her. She did and we turned onto my street. "This is it, up here. The gray one."

She slowed down and pulled up to the curb in front of my house.

"Wow," she said looking up at where I lived. "Great house."

I smiled inwardly at this. "Well, it's not glass. But it's okay."

We sat there for a second, the CD still playing.

"You know," she said finally, "I just want to say you were right about what you said earlier. It is kind of hard to hold a lot in. But for me…it's sometimes harder to let it out."

"Yeah," I said. "But you gotta get stuff out. Otherwise it just fester, and eventually, you just blow."

"See that's the part I can't deal with," she said looking at me. "I can't take it when people are angry."

"Anger's not bad," I said slowly, fishing for a way to explain what was floating around in my head. "It's human. And anyway, just because someone's upset doesn't mean they'll stay that way."

It was true. Anger comes and goes, but true feeling are always there. They're just hidden by something that seems bigger and more powerful. But in the end, what's real, pulls through.

"I don't know," she said. "In my experience, when people I'm close with have gotten upset with me, that's it. It _is_ forever. Everything changes."

This was interesting. Most of the time, if someone can't find it in themselves to overcome the anger they feel and forgive you for whatever you did or didn't do, then they're not really a friend. Forgiving someone was hard, yes, but not impossible to do if you really care about the person.

Getting mad is part of life.

I sat for a moment, figuring out a way I could tell her this without sounding mean or anything. True, I was always honest, but I wasn't mean.

"Well," I started finding the words, "maybe you weren't as close with them as you thought."

"Meaning what?" she asked.

"Meaning," I said, "that if someone is really close with you, your getting upset or them getting upset is okay, and they don't change because of it. Its just part of the relationship. It _happens_. You deal with it."

"You deal with it," she repeated. "I wouldn't even how to do that."

"Well, that makes sense," I said. "Considering you never let it happen in the first place."

We sat there for a few minutes that seemed to stretch for hours. This was weird for me. Usually, time didn't pass quick enough. But with Annabel, time flew by. She was just…I couldn't even find the right word to describe her. I'm not even sure Merriam-Webster could help me.

She was like a great song. When it first starts, you think you know exactly what it is going to be like, but as it progresses, it throws you for a loop. The tempo changes with the feeling. New elements are introduced and it deepens.

She was amazing like that.

"You sure have a lot of answers," she stated.

"I don't," I said playing with the big silver ring on my left hand. "I'm just doing the best I can under the circumstances."

"How's that going?"

"Well, you know," I replied glancing at her. "It's day to day."

She smiled. She had such a beautiful smile. "I like your rings," she said nodding to my hands. "Are they the exact same?"

I looked at my hands. "Sort of. And not really," I reached down and slipped of the ring I had been playing with and handed it to her. "They're kind of a before-and-after thing. Rolly made them for me. His dad's a jeweler."

"He made this?" she asked weighing the heavy silver in her hand.

"Not the ring," I said. "The engraving. On the inside." That was it. I had never told anyone about the message on the inside of my rings. Well, Rolly knew, but considering her made them for me, he didn't really count.

"Oh," she said turning the ring so she could see the inside of the ring in her hand. It looked so big in her hands. It reminded me of how small, how fragile, she was. I guessed the ring wouldn't even fit on her thumb.

We were so different. Me this big bulky, giant with anger problems – and her, the tiny model, who was _nice _and couldn't express how she felt.

I knew she could read the print on the inside now judging by the slightly shocked look on her face. I could see it like it was in front of my face as well. _Go Fuck Yourself. _

"Nice," she said.

"Classy huh?" I said grimacing. "That was me pre-arrest. I was a little…"

"Angry?"

"You could say. He made this one when I finished the Anger Management course," I said slipping the second ring off my right middle finger and handed it to her.

_Or Not. _I could see it clear as day. Interesting. How two words can turn everything around so easily. It was like a choice. You could get pissed, and fuck someone over…or not. It was that simple.

These days, I usually decided on the later.

She laughed as she read the second inscription. "Well. It's always good to know your options."

"Exactly," I said, relishing in the fact that she understood. I smiled at her, and took in the delicious color of her blush. Did I make her blush like that? Is it possible that I make her nervous, in that way?_ Does she feel for me?_

It was a moment. A beautiful moment. And it was ruined by my annoying little sister.

"Annabel!" she almost shrieked from outside my window. She was waving and smiling like a maniac. "Hi!"

"Hi," Annabel said.

She gestured to me to roll down the window. I didn't want to. I just wanted her to go away, but I couldn't just be mean like that, so I slowly rolling down the window.

As soon as it was down far enough, she stuck her head in and began talking, or rather screaming to Annabel.

"Oh my God, I love your shirt! Is that from Tosca?"

She glanced down trying to keep up. "Maybe," she said. "My mom got it for me."

"You're so lucky! I love Tosca. It's like, my favorite store in the whole world. Are you coming in?"

She streamed all these thoughts together so they came out one right after another. Again, Annabel had a right to be confused.

"Coming in?" she asked.

"To the house. Are you staying for dinner? Oh, you _totally_ have to stay for dinner!"

"Mallory," I said rubbing my face with my hands. "Please stop shrieking."

As usual, she completely ignored me, and poked her head in even farther, so that she had practically her whole top half of her body inside the car. "You could see my room," she exclaimed excitedly. "And my closet, and I could show you—"

"Mallory," I said again. "Back away from the car." I couldn't help wondering why Annabel would want to see my sister's closet. It was probably just a girl thing.

"Do you like my outfit?" she asked stepping back and spinning around so Annabel could see what she was wearing. "It's inspired by Nicholls Lake; she's my favorite singer right now? She's like, punk."

That was it. Now it was just ridiculous. I sat back hitting my head on the headrest. "Nicholls Lake," I said, my voice low, "is _not_ punk."

"Yes she is," Mallory said defiantly. "And see? Today so am I!"

"Mallory, we've talked about this. Remember? Did we not discuss the true definition of punk?" I said breathing deeply. "Have you even _listened _to that Black Flag CD I gave you?"

"That was so loud," she said in a whiny voice. "And plus you can't even sing along. Nicholls Lake is better."

_Oh God. _"Mallory," I said taking in another unsteady breath. "If you could just—"

Just then, thank God, our mom came to the door and called Mallory inside. She was a life saver.

"I have to go in," Mallory announced to Annabel. "But you'll come over another time right?"

"Sure," Annabel told her.

"Bye Annabel."

"Good-bye."

Mallory finally turned to leave, and began to walk up the front walk, glancing back every few steps. God did she annoy the crap out of me.

"Wow," Annabel said when Mallory was farther away. "So she's punk, huh?"

I didn't reply. I had to get under control.

"Is this you freaking out?" she asked me.

I exhaled. _If only. _

"No. This is me annoyed. I don't know what it is about her. There's just something about sisters. They can make you freaking crazy."

"Story of my life," she said. That was the second time she had said that.

"You say that a lot, you know," I told her.

"What?"

"'Story of my life.'"

"You said it first," she countered.

"Did I?"

She nodded. "That day, behind the school." I guess I did.

"Oh," I said pausing. "You know, when you thing about it, that's kind of a weird thing. I mean, it's meant to be sympathetic, right? But it's kind of not. Like you're telling the other person there's nothing unique about what they're saying."

She was quiet for a moment, contemplating this.

"Yeah." She said, finally, "but you could also look at it the other way. Like you're saying no matter how bad things are for you, I can still relate."

"Ah," I said. "So you're saying you relate to me."

"No. Not at all." She said.

"Nice," I said laughing. At least she was honest about that.

"Okay," she said. "Maybe a little."

This was too much. She really was an amazing person. But I didn't want to scare her away by being to forward, by moving to quickly. I turned back to her, looking into her eyes and almost loosing myself in them.

I had to get out of there before I embarrassed myself, or did something I'd regret later.

"So," I said, pushing the door open, "um, thanks again for the ride."

"No problem. I owed you."

"No, you didn't," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow, or something."

"Yeah. See you then."

I was able to get out of her tiny car with all my limbs intact. That was a plus.

I walked up the step and towards my house, resisting the urge to look back at her.

It wasn't until I was inside that I heard her drive off. I watched through the screen as she drove away, then made my way into the kitchen where Mallory was explaining in great detail how Annabel was my new friend, and how her mom let her have really nice cool clothes.

Mom, trying her best to look interested, was busy making dinner.

"I thought you had to stay for a delivery?" I asked her, while Mallory was taking a break to hydrate herself before launching into her next rant.

"Oh I did," she said looking up at me. "But the delivery man, was early. Turns out I could have picked you up after all. I'm sorry."

"It's not a big deal," I said putting my bag down. "I got a ride."

"Yeah from _Annabel Greene_," Mallory said.

"From what Mallory has told me," my mom said, "she seems like a nice girl."

"Yeah, well. It doesn't help that Mallory is obsessed with her."

"I am not!" Mallory said in reply.

"Whatever," I said rolling my eyes.

"All I'm saying," our mom said turning back to the pot on the stove, "is that she seems like a good, well mannered girl—"

"Don't mom," I said rubbing my eyes.

"—and she might be a good influence on you," she finished.

"Mom, everything is fine now. Okay?"

"I know Owen. I do," she replied turning back to me.

"I'm going upstairs," I said turning to walk out of the kitchen and make my way up to my room.

"Mom," I heard Mallory say before I was out of earshot. "I think he likes her."

There was a pause in which my mom thought about this.

"I think so too."

_A/N: Wow, I finished this a lot quicker than I thought I would. I guess I was just really bored and needed to do something. Thanks to all reviewers. Andto those who read but choose not to review...I'm making my sad face at you...is it so hard to write a little three word review...aka "I love it!" or "I hate it!" I'll give you a clue...it's not. So please make me eternally happy and share what you think...don't keep it bottled up._

_Thanks again._


	8. Author Note

Author's Note

Hello people who read this story. I am terribly sorry to let you know that, no, this is not a story update. It's more of a...I'm-having-a-total-writers-block-give-me-some-asprin-I-don't-know-whay-the-hell-I'm-gonna-write-next sort of Author's Note. Yay! I can totally see you jumping for joy right now...or maybe not. Anyways, I am having some trouble. I know it doesn't seem that hard to re-write a story from another characters point of view, but it is.

Added to this fact is that my computer is on the fritz right now, and yeah, I'm pretty mad.

But anyway, I am going to try and update as soon as possible, but it's hard...

I feel like a cry baby...well I am a world class whiner...(yeah that's right, try and take me on!)

If anyone has any ideas, well don't hold them in, let them out. Many of you (well the ones who actually review..._hint hint_...) have said that you thought about writing a story like this. So I wanna know what you think I can do to get out of my rutt. All I need is a little pull, push, whatever! So what do you say? Wanna help me!? You know you do!

So please, I need you.

I'll stop now...I sound stupid. But hey, that's OK. It happens...

Thanks,

_(Insert chosen name here)_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I don't own any of this story. This is only what I think Owen is thinking.

I know it's been a while...but I hope you like this. Read and Review...it makes me happy.

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

"Owen!"

I turned around looking for the source of the voice that came from behind and slightly to the right of me. I could see Rolly walking up the sidewalk towards me, hands in his pockets. I had just gotten off work, and was making my way up the walk to my house.

"Hey Rolly," I said taking out my earphones and stopping to wait for him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just in the neighborhood," he said finally coming to stand next to me. "Though I'd stop by and say hey."

"Right," I said. "Come on in."

"If you say so," he said already starting to walk past me up the steps.

I could help but laugh under me breath. That was what I liked about Rolly. He wasn't scared of offending me. It was so easy to be around him. There weren't any of those awkward conversations where you ask someone what they want to do, and they say 'I don't know' or 'whatever you want to do'. I hate people like that.

I followed Rolly up the steps and into the house.

"Wow, something smells good," Rolly said sniffing the air. "See, that's why I love it here, it always smells fantastic." To emphasize his point he lifted his arms over his head and continued to sniff the air like a hungry dog.

"Yeah," I said taking off my coat and walking toward the kitchen. "I think Mom and Mallory already ate but there's probably some food left over if you want it."

"Well, of course I want it. It's free food. There's not much in life greater than free food."

"Really?"

"Well, as far as I can think of now."

"Okay then."

Rolly sat down at the kitchen table while I went over to the stove where my mom had left dinner for me. There wasn't much left but it would do.

"Hey Rolly. I didn't know you were coming over, I would have made more food." My mom said coming out of the adjoining office next to the kitchen.

"Oh, no Ms. Armstrong. It's not a big deal," Rolly said shrugging his shoulders. "I kind of showed up unexpectedly."

"Yeah, Mom. We'll be fine." I said.

"Well, okay," she said beginning to head back to her office. "Don't be too loud. I finally got our sister to sit down and study, and I assume you don't want her bothering you."

"Okay." I said.

"Tell your mom I said hi, okay Rolly?" Mom asked.

"No problem Ms. A."

"Great." She said leaving the room.

"So, you go the songs for the show ready?" Rolly asked leaning back in the chair resting his arms behind his head.

"Almost," I said grabbing two plates down from the cabinet on the right of the sink. "I'm still undecided on a few. I found this really great techno track that is just, amazing, but I already have a bunch of techno and electronic songs lined up. I think it may be a little much."

"What?" Rolly said surprised. "Why would it be too much? I thought you said we could never have enough techno."

"I know," I said turning to him.

"So what's the problem?"

"It's just that Annabel, doesn't really like techno, and considering that she is one of our few listeners –" I turned back to the stove and finished scooping what was left of the mashed potatoes onto my plate. I could tell I had dug myself into a hole.

"Oh I see." Rolly said in mock amazement. "You wanna make your girlfriend happy."

"She's not my girlfriend," I said truthfully. I didn't know what we were. "I mean she's a girl and she's my friend, I think, but it's not like that."

"But you like her," Rolly stated.

I didn't say anything foe a moment. Instead I walked to the table and set the food down in front of Rolly and where I was going to sit. Then I walked to the CD player that I kept in the kitchen, and turned it on. I sat down and listened as Sondre Lerche's voice cut through the air like a silver blade.

"I think I do," I said after a few minutes.

"Think you do what?" Rolly asked his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Think I like her," I said pushing the food on my plate around. Suddenly I wasn't very hungry anymore. "Actually I defiantly like her, but I don't know if she likes me back in that way."

"I hate to say it man, but you sound like your little sister." Rolly said bring the fork into his waiting mouth.

"Shut up," I said hitting him in the arm. I couldn't help but smile though. I did kind of sound like a little middle school girl. I just had never really felt this way before. It was new to me.

Sure I had liked girls before. In sixth grade I thought I was in love with Ariana Simmons. Needless to say it didn't work out.

"So are you gonna ask her out?" Rolly asked.

"Not right now," I said.

"But you _are_ going to," he pushed.

"I might."

Rolly rolled his eyes and continued to eat.

"Well," I said putting my fork down. "What about you?"

"Well. I wouldn't mind it, but don't you think it might be a little weird – you know me going out with the girl you like."

"No I mean _her_," I said emphasizing the word her.

"Oh," Rolly said in acknowledgement. "That's different."

"How so?" I asked putting a piece of chicken in my mouth.

"Well, for one thing, you actually see and talk to Annabel everyday, whereas I have no way to get into contact with the girl of _my_ dreams."

"Even if you saw again her you wouldn't talk to her, let alone ask her out." I said remembering the last time Rolly had seen the girl who he had been practically in love with since she punched him in the face.

"Yes I would," Rolly said finishing the rest of the food on his plate in one huge bite.

"Wanna bet on it?"

"Ha! I'm never betting with you ever again," Rolly said sitting back. "Besides that's what Dexter is for."

"True."

---ooo---

I stretched my self across my bed and reached down to turn on the stereo next to me, and focused my attention on the scuff mark on my ceiling. My conversation with Rolly was replaying in my head. I had just told Rolly I was going to ask Annabel out.

I didn't even know I was going to until that came out of my mouth.

I wasn't even sure if Annabel liked me in the way that she would ever go out with me. Sure we talked everyday, and she shared her lunch with me after I had admitted that I spent my lunch money on CDs.

But she was such a great person. She really got me; understood what I was about. They only thing she couldn't quite grasp was the fact that I didn't lie. It seemed everyday she would test me, asking me questions about anything and everything trying to get and un-honest response out of me. She asked me questions about her clothes, hair, my first impression of her, and even the state of my love life.

She never got anything but the truth and she never would.

We always had intense discussions at lunch, about music mostly, and I had told her things I have told few people aside from Rolly.

She really wanted to know about me.

I pushed myself up and off my bed, and made my way to my computer. I thought about how interested she was in my obsession with music. All she had really ever heard was what I played on my radio show. That was just a peek of what my obsession really was. Just a glimpse into the crowded, crazy, world I chose to live in.

Today at lunch I had decided that her knowledge of music was stunted and wanting due to lack of exposure. I knew what I had to do. I had to expose her to the vast world of music.

I opened up my iTunes account and made a new playlist. Then I started to drag song after song to it. Song after song after song.

---ooo---

I walked up to where Annabel and I sat everyday at lunch, put my bag down on the wall, and grabbed out the stack of CDs I had made for her the past night.

"Here," I said handing them to her. "For you."

"Me?" she asked. "What's this?"

"An overview," I explained. "I planned to do more but my burner was acting up. So I could only do a few."

She started to look through the CDs a look somewhere between surprise and amazement on her face.

"If you really like any of these," I continued, "then I can give you more. When you know, you're ready to go in depth."

She continued to look through the stack until she got to the last CD in the stack. I could see it in my head, _Just Listen_.

"Is this techno?" she asked me.

"I can't believe you'd just assume that," I said, a little offended. "God."

"Owen."

"It's not techno."

She just looked at me so I was forced to explain myself. "The point is that all the others are set lists. Set concepts. An education, if you will. You should listen to them first. And then, when you've done that, and you think you're ready, really ready, put that one on. It's a bit more….out there."

"All right," she said. "I'm _officially_ wary now."

"You might totally hate it," I admitted truthfully. "Or not. It might be the answer to all life's questions. That's the beauty of it. You know?"

She looked down at the CD again. "Just Listen," she said.

"Yeah. Don't think, or judge. Just listen."

"And then what?"

"And then," I said, "you can make up your mind. Fair enough, right?"

She thought about this for a moment. "Yeah," she said sliding the CD to the bottom of the stack once again. "Okay."

Yeah she had no idea what was on the CD.

---ooo---

A few days later, I was at work delivering pizza's, when I got the order. One cheese pizza sent to a house somewhere in The Arbors – Annabel's neighborhood. As I was driving deeper into the subdivision, I found myself praying that no one else would need a pizza delivered so I might be able to stop by Annabel's house to say hi.

Thinking this I pulled up to the address given to me, and was happy to find there would be no need for that. The one cheese pizza I was supposed to deliver was meant for Annabel's house.

I turned off my car, and sat there for a minute. Life was funny.

I got out being sure not to drop the pizza as I stepped over the curb and simultaneously put my earphones in, turned on my iPod, and began to walk up to her glass house. I ran my hand as I reached the door and rang the bell.

After a few moments, I heard footsteps that told me someone was coming to the door. The door opened and I was greeted with the face of a very thin but still beautiful girl. I remembered her from the day I drove Annabel home as Annabel's older sister Whitney.

"Hey," I said cheerfully. "One cheese pizza?"

"Sounds right," she responded.

"Okay then. That'll be…eleven eighty seven."

"Okay," she said reaching into one of her pockets. "What are you listening to?" she asked nodding toward my earphones.

I pulled out my earphones so I could hear her better. "This really great techno band. Ebb Tide."

"You're kidding?" she looked up at me suddenly her face brightening noticeably.

"You know them?" I asked slightly surprised.

"I love them," she said. "Not so much their newer stuff, but earlier albums. I have a couple of imports I got from a friend that are awesome."

"Really," I said even more impressed. "UK imports, or somewhere else?"

"UK, I think. I'd have to check."

I nodded. Never did I expect someone related to Annabel Greene to ever be a Ebb Tide fan.

"What do I owe you again?" She asked.

"Eleven eighty-seven," I replied.

She pulled out a bill from her pocket and handed it to me. "Here's a twenty. Just give me five back."

And she tipped pretty well too. Impressive. "Thanks," I said taking the money and counting out change for her. "The thing about Ebb Tide." I continued, "is that they're really an acquired taste."

"Totally," she said.

"I mean most people don't even…" I was cut off by the sudden appearance of Annabel at the door. In my surprise I had completely forgotten where I was and was thrown for a second. She looked from her sister to me, looking a little tired.

"See," I said to Whitney, "case in point. Annabel is _not_ an Ebb Tide fan. She hates techno, in fact."

Whitney looked from me to Annabel a little confused. "She does?"

"Yup. Despite my best efforts to convince her otherwise," I continued. "She's very stubborn, once she's made up her mind. Totally honest, totally opinionated. But I guess you already know that."

The two sisters shared a look that confused me slightly.

"Anyway," I said bending down to unzip the pizza from it's carrying case. "Here you go. Enjoy it."

Whitney nodded still looking at Annabel and took it from me. "Thanks," she said. "Have a good night."

"You too," I said as she turned and walked into the house.

I put the money in my pocket, picked up the pizza case, and addressed Annabel. "Your sister is an Ebb Tide fan. She has _imports_."

"And that's good?"

"_Very_ good," I replied. "It's almost enlightened. Imports take effort."

"Do you talk about music with every single person you meet?" she asked.

"No," I said. "Well, not always. In this case, I had on my earphones, and she asked me what I was listening to."

"And it just so happened to be a band she knows and loves."

"That's the universality of music," I said to her. "It's a bonding thing. It brings people together. Friend of foe. Old and young. Ma and your sister. And –"

"Me and your sister," she cut in. "And your mom."

"My mom?" I asked confused.

"I met her today, at the mall. At the Jenny Reef thing."

No. She wouldn't. "You went to see _Jenny Reef_?" I asked in horror.

"I _love_ Jenny Reef," she said. "Much better than Ebb Tide."

"That," I said completely serious, "is not _even _funny."

What's wrong with Jenny Reef?" She said.

"Everything is wrong with Jenny Reef!" I shot back. "Did you even _see_ the poster she signed for Mallory? With the product plug in her autograph? I mean, it's so abhorrent that anyone could consider themselves an artist and then sell out so completely to the corporate machine, in the name of –"

"Okay, okay calm down," she said cutting me off. "I didn't go to see Jenny Reef. I had a meeting for the models at Kopf's."

I shock my head relieved. "Thank God. You had me worried there for a second."

"What happened to there being no right and wrong in music?" she asked me. "Or does that not apply to teenage pop stars?"

"It applies," I said flatly. "you're entitled to an opinion about Jenny Reef. It would just dismay me if you were really a fan." _No really it would piss me off._

"But have you really given her a chance? Remember," she said holding up her hand, "don't think or judge. Just listen."

I made a face at her. She thought she was so smart throwing my words back at me.

"I _have_ listened to Jenny reef. Not necessarily by choice, but I have. And my opinion is that she's a publicity whore who has allowed her music, if that's even what you want to call it, to be hijacked and compromised in the name of materialism and big businesses."

"Well," she said crossing her arms. "As long as you don't feel too strongly about it."

Just then I felt my cell phone go off in my pocket signaling that it was time to return to work. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

"Pie up, gotta go," I said. "You know as much as you might want me to, I can't just stand her and argue with you about music all night."

"No?"

"No." I stepped back from the door. "However, if you want to continue this discussion some other time, I'd be more than happy to do so."

"Like Tuesday?" she asked.

"Sounds good." I started down the steps. "I'll see you then, okay?"

She nodded. "Bye, Owen"

"And don't forget the show tomorrow!" I called over my shoulder. "We're doing all techno. A full hour of dripping faucets."

"Are you joking?"

"Maybe. You'll have to listen to find out, though."

Yeah she defiantly had to listen, I was gonna put a surprise at the end just for her.

---ooo---

A/N: So there it is. It took me awhile but it's finally done. It isn't the best, but I think it'll do. I took some of you advice and added some of my own sceens. Well one but anyway...hope you like it. Don't forget to review.

And by the way...I had trouble with the whole 'Just Listen' CD. I don't know what's on it!!! Yikes!!! So I just didn't get into it. I thought that was safer. And if anyone can tell me who Sondre Lerche is I'd be impressed. I thought I'd insert my own musical tastes. Funny...


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I do not own any of this. It's all Ms. Dessen's. I realize that I am using some of the same dialogue lines, but that is what happens when you write a story like this. I just want to make it clear. The whole story is Ms. Dessen's - this is just what I think is running through Owen's mind._

_If I was Sissy Spacik in the movie 'Carrie' I would use my telekensis to KILL YOU!...so read and review and you might be spared from this sad sad fate._

* * *

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

I woke up early Sunday morning feeling particularly happy, which was actually kind of weird considering how angry I usually was.

I recalled the conversation I had with Annabel at her house the night before. Annabel would defiantly have something to say about this week's show.

I quickly got dressed, unplugged my iPod from where it sat charging, and mad my way downstairs careful not to wake my mom or Mallory. In the kitchen, I pored myself a cup of coffee and sat at the table. I took out my iPod and looked through the songs I had lined up for today. When I got to the new addition at the end, I cringed reminding myself it was for the best.

Looking at the clock, I realized I had to get moving or I would be late. I poured the rest of my coffee down the sink and put the cup in the dishwasher. I walked out to my car, and turned the stereo on before putting the car in gear.

I was greeted with the wobbly, strikingly genuine vocals that can only belong to Alec Ounsworth.

Thanks to the lack of traffic that was ever-present on Sunday mornings, I was able to pick Rolly up and get to the station with a few minutes to spare. I made my way to my glass-encased station, and sat down.

"So are we ready?" Rolly said when we were seated and ready to go.

"Just about."

"Man I love this job," he said leaning back.

"And why is that?"

"It's magic. We get to bring our obsession to people all around the world, or at least in the community."

"Yes, that is true." It seemed we had this conversation every week. Thankfully, Rolly shared my passion for obscure, but real music. Like me, the radio show was his life. It was the reason we both got through the week at school.

"Let's roll," he said putting on his headphones as I did the same.

I pressed a few buttons, and got the signal from Rolly.

"Hello everyone," I said into the microphone, "you're listening to Anger Management, here on your community radio, WRUS, 89.9. Were here to wake you up, stir your senses, and enlighten you as much as we can. Here we go. Enjoy."

---ooo---

I started the next song just as the last came to an end. "This has been Anger Management, here on your community radio station WRUS, 89.9. We'll wrap up today with a long-distance dedication to a regular listener, to whom we say: Look don't be ashamed of the music you love. Even if, in our humble opinion, it's not really music at all. We know why you really went to the mall yesterday. See you next week."

I pushed a few buttons and looked at Rolly. I held up my hand and silently counted down on my fingers. 5…4…3…2…ring.

"Amazing," Rolly said shaking his head.

I pushed another button, answering the phone. "WRUS, Community Radio."

"I did not go to the mall to see Jenny Reef," she accused. "I told you that yesterday."

"Are you not enjoying the song?"

"Actually," Annabel said, "I am. It's better that just about everything else you played."

"Funny," I said.

"I'm not joking."

"I'm sure you aren't. Which, frankly, is just plain sad."

"Almost as sad as you playing Jenny Reef on your show. What is this, all the hits and none of the lip?"

I couldn't believe she had just compared me to that station!

"It was meant to be ironic!" I said in defense. Rolly looked over and made some hand gestures pointing to me my headphones and making his fingers walk along his hand.

"Just keep telling yourself that." She said.

I sighed loudly still looking at Rolly. "Enough about Jenny Reef," I said. "Answer me this. How do you feel about bacon?" There I made the plunge.

"Bacon?" she repeated. "Which song was that?"

"It's not a song. It's a food. You know, bacon? Pork product? Sizzles in a frying pan?"

She didn't say anything. I had probably confused her beyond belief, but what can I say. I wasn't very good at this.

"What do you say? You up for it?" I continued.

"Up for what?" she asked. She was making this more difficult then it should be.

"Breakfast."

"Now?"

"What, you have plans already?" I asked sarcastically.

"Well, no, but –"

"Cool. Pick you up in twenty minutes." And then I hung up. No goodbye, nothing. I couldn't. I was kind of embarrassed. I officially sucked at this.

"Very smooth," I heard Rolly say.

"Shut up."

"No, really. You're a regular Bond."

"Shut up!" I said standing up.

"Shall we?" he said walking out.

"I guess we shall." I collected all my things and walked out my car where Rolly was waiting.

When I drove into Annabel's driveway twenty minutes later she was already on the front step waiting.

As she advanced to my car, Rolly got out to move to the back.

"You remember Rolly, right?" I said when Annabel was outside the open door.

"Yeah," she said. "But you don't have to move. I can sit in back."

"It's no problem," Rolly said climbing into the back. "Besides, I have to make sure I have all my gear for later."

"Gear?" she asked as she got in. I grabbed the hammer from the pocket on my door and gestured from Annabel to get the seatbelt. She then sat back so I could hammer the belt shut.

"For work. I've got to do a class today," he explained further. "It's an intermediate level. Gotta make sure I'm well covered."

"Right," she said as I backed the car out of the driveway. "So how do you end up with a job like that?"

"Same way as most," he said back. "I answered an ad. Initially, I was just helping out answering phones and enrolling people for classes. Bu then one guy got a groin injury and quit, so I got promoted to attacker."

"Or demoted," I said. "Depending on how you look at it." I liked to tease Rolly about his job. He was so serious about it.

"Oh, no," Rolly said shaking his head. "Attacking is much better than clerical work."

"It is?" Annabel asked.

"Sure. I mean, for one, it's exciting. And another, you really get to meet people on such a personal level. There's a real bonding in someone beating the crap out of you."

I could feel Annabel look over at me. I knew what she was thinking, and no, I didn't feel the same way. Rolly and I differed on that topic. "You can look at me all you want," I said keeping my eyes on the road. "I am not commenting on that."

"Fighting brings people together," Rolly continued. "In fact, a lot of the women who take my classes come up and hug me afterwards. People connect with me. It happens tons of times."

I couldn't hold it off anymore. "But only once," I said, "that really mattered."

I heard Rolly sigh. "True. Very true."

"Meaning what?" Annabel asked.

"Rolly's in love with a girl who punched him in the face," I explained.

"Not the face," he corrected me. "The neck."

"Apparently," I continued, "she has a mad right hook."

"It was impressive," Rolly agreed with me. "It was at this expo I worked, at the mall? We had a table, you know, and people could enter a drawing for a free class, and take a hit at me, for fun."

I shook my head at this. He gets very dramatic at this point in the story.

"Anyway, she comes up with some friends, and Delores—that's my boss—starts her spiel about the classes and invites them to hit me. Her friends won't do it, but she steps right up. Looks me in the eye. And wham! Right in the collarbone."

"You had your pads on, though, right?" Annabel asked quickly.

"Of course!" he said. "I'm a professional. But still, even through the pads, you can tell when someone packs a wallop. And this girl did. Plus, she was gorgeous. Lethal combination. But before I can even say anything, she just smiles at me, says thanks, and walks away. Gone. Just like that. I never even got her name."

"Wow," Annabel said. "That's quite a story."

"Yeah," Rolly said his voice solemn. "I know."

We were getting close. Even with the windows up, I could catch the faint whiff of bacon. I rolled down my window and could smell it even more. I took a deep breath savoring the salty smell. "Oh yeah," I said. "We're almost there."

She turned around in her seat and looked around. "Where?"

"Two words," I said looking over at her. "Double bacon."

My two favorite words.

About five minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of the World of Waffles. This was the place we came every week after the show. The best breakfast place in the world.

I got out of the car and took a deep breath, filling my nose with the delicious smell of the bacon that attracted customers everyday.

"Oh my God," Annabel said from between me and Rolly, and I knew she could smell it too. "That is—"

"Great, I know," I said. "It didn't used to be like this. I mean, they had bacon, but not at this level. But then this new place opened on the other side of the highway—"

"The Morning Café," Rolly said making a face. "So sub par. Famously soggy pancakes."

"—and they had to get competitive. So now, every day is Double Bacon Day." I stepped in front of her and held the door open for her. "Great, right?" she nodded and stepped inside.

I went in after her and took another deep breath.

"Oh," I said noticing Annabel had her arms wrapped around her body. "Forgot to warn you about the cold thing. Here." I took of my jacket and handed it to her. When she started to protest I explained, "They keep it cold so people don't stay too long. Believe me, if you're chilly now, you'll be frozen in ten minutes. Take it."

She took it from me and slipped it on. I couldn't help but notice how big it was on her. The cuffs completely covered her hands and it hung half way down her thigh. It looked good on her though.

Our waitress led us to our table. After she left us to look at the menu Rolly said to Annabel, "I recommend the chocolate-chip pancakes. With lots of butter and syrup. And bacon."

"Ugh," I said. "I keep it basic: eggs, bacon, biscuit. Done."

"So you guys do this every week," Annabel said after we had ordered.

"Yeah." I nodded. "Since the first show. It's a tradition. And Rolly always pays." I looked at Rolly.

"That's not a tradition," Rolly said. "It's because I lot a bet."

"How long do you have to pay?" Annabel asked him.

"Forever," he told her. "I had my chance, and I blew it. And now I pay. Literally."

"It's not really forever," I said, hitting my spoon against my water. "Just until you talk to her."

"And when is that going to happen?" Rolly asked crossing his arms.

"The next time you see her." I replied simply.

"Yeah," he said sadly. "The next time."

Annabel looked over at me seemingly lost and looking for an explanation. "The girl with the hook. In July, we saw her out at a club. First time we ever saw her anywhere. And Rolly's been talking about her nonstop since she clocked him—"

"Not nonstop." Rolly said embarrassed.

"—and here's his chance," I said. "But he can't act."

"The thing is," Rolly said, "I'm a big believer in the perfect moment. They don't come around that often."

Interrupting Rolly deep train of thought, was the waitress bringing us our food. I could tell by the slightly amazed look on Annabel's face that she had never seen so much bacon in her life. It was crammed all around her waffle. Exactly how it should be.

"So there I am," Rolly started again, buttering his pancakes, "trying to figure out an in, and her sweater falls off the back of her chair. It's like it's meant to be, you know? But I freeze up. I can't do it."

I had heard this story so many times. I could feel Annabel's eyes on me, looking for a retort.

"The thing is," Rolly continued, "it's a big deal when you finally get the chance to do the one thing you want to do – need to do – more than anything. It can kind of scare the crap out of you."

I knew Rolly was looking at me. For once, his words had a double meaning.

"I bet," Annabel said pouring syrup over her waffle.

"Which is why," I said, "I said if he picked up the sweater and talked to her, I'd pay for breakfast forever. And if he _didn't_ do it, he had to foot the bill."

Rolly took a bite of his pancakes. "I actually got up and started over there. But then she turned around, and I—"

"Choked," I said.

"Panicked. She saw me, and I got all flustered, and I kept walking. Now I have to pay for breakfast for eternity. Or, until I actually make good on the bet, which is unlikely because I haven't seen her since."

"Wow," Annabel said. "That's quite a story."

He nodded completely serious. "Yeah. I know."

---ooo---

We finally got out of the diner an hour later.

Rolly had to get to work so the whole way to EmPOWerment! in the mall, he struggled into his mountains of padding.

I drove up to the curb to let him off.

"Thanks for the ride," he said as he eased himself out of the car and onto the pavement. "I'll call you later." Then he gave me a look that said,_ Now's your chance._

"Sounds good." I gave him a look back that said, _Shut up before I kill you._ But I knew he was right. I was driving her home after a perfect morning. It was the best time to ask her out.

We sat in silence for a while. I was trying to build up the courage to just do it. '_Come on Owen! What is your problem?' _my subconscious yelled at me. _'You always tell the truth, you never have any trouble expressing your feelings…so why are you making this so difficult?! Just do it. Don't think just do!_

"So," I started. "Have you listened to any of the CDs I burned for you?" Perfect. That was good. Get the subject on music.

"Yeah," she said calm as ever. "I actually started the protect song one yesterday."

"And?"

"Fell asleep," she admitted. I winced a little. "But I was really tired. I'll try again and let you know."

"No rush," I said pulling up in front of her house. "These things take time."

"No kidding. You Gave me a lot to listen to."

"Ten CDs," I replied, "is not a lot. It's barely a smattering."

"Owen. It's like a hundred and forty songs. Minimum."

"If you want real education," I continued, "you can't just sit and wait for the music to come to you. You have to go to the music."

"Are you suggesting some sort of pilgrimage?"

I could tell she was joking. But what she didn't know was that she just made whole asking her out task a whole lot easier. "You could call it that."

"Uh-oh," she said sitting back. "What would _you_ call it?"

"Going to a club to see a band," I said. "A good band. Live. Next weekend."

She was quite for a small moment. Not small enough to be considered hesitating, but big enough for me to notice.

"A good band," she repeated. "Good according to who?"

"To me, of course." That wasn't what I was expecting. God this was hard.

"Oh."

I raised an eyebrow. "And to _others_, too. It's Rolly's cousins band."

"Are they—"

I knew that one was coming. "No. Not techno," I answered. "They're more kind of a loose rock, original songs, somewhat jokey but solidly alternative."

"Wow," she said looking in my eyes. "That's quite a description."

"The description means nothing. It's the music that counts," I said. "And the music, you will like. Trust me."

"We'll see," she said and I knew she would come. "So when is this loose-rock-original-songs-somewhat-jokey-but-solidly-alternative band playing."

"Saturday night," he replied. "It's an all-ages show, at Bendo. There's an opener, so they'll go on around nine."

"Okay," she said,

"Okay, as in you'll go?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

She smiled and looked over my shoulder towards her house, something catching her eye. I followed her gaze to her sister Whitney walking down the stairs inside her house. We both watched her walk through various rooms inside towards a line of flowerpots in the front window. She sat there studying them, occasionally reaching out to pat down the soil.

"They're herbs," I heard Annabel say next to me. "She just planted them yesterday. They're um, part of her therapy."

I nodded. "You said she was sick. What's wrong? If you don't mind me asking."

"She has an eating disorder," she told me.

"Oh."

"She's a lot better than she was," she added. "I mean when we first found out, it was really bad. She was in the hospital for a while last year."

I continued to look at her. It was strange. People hide things so well. Sure when I talked to Whitney the night before, I noticed she was thin, but I never would have guessed anything like that had happened to her.

"That must have been hard," I said. "Watching her go through that."

"Yeah," she said. "It was. It was awful. It really scared me."

I looked over to her and felt the overwhelming need to wrap my arms around her and protect her.

"The thing about Whitney," she said, "is that she was always really private. So you never knew if anything was wrong with her. My sister Kirsten, she's the total opposite, the kind of person who always volunteers _too_ much information. So, like, when Kirsten was unhappy, you knew it even if you didn't want to. Whereas with Whitney, you had to draw it out of her. Or figure it out some other way."

I looked back towards the house. "What about you?" I asked her.

"What about me?"

"How can they tell when something's wrong with you?"

"I don't know," she said. "I guess you have to ask them."

We both looked back at her house to see Whitney walking up the stairs again. This time she glanced outside. When she saw us sitting there, she slowed her steps, before continuing up the steps.

"I should go in," she said undoing her seatbelt. "Thanks again for breakfast."

"No problem," I said. "Don't forget about the pilgrimage, okay? Saturday. Nine o'clock."

"Got it," she said opening her door and sliding out. She made her way around my car and up the driveway. I took one last look at her retreating form before putting the car in drive and pulling forward, leaving her neighboorhood.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this story. My computer is evil. Just thought I throw that out there. So if you found any spelling and-or grammer errors...blame him..._

_Up next...the sleepover!!!! Yes yes yes...I know...you are dying in anticipation. So lets see if we can get lots of reviews, or it might just take me a really long time to update. Yeah that's right...I have degraded myself to threatening you...I am now one of those annoying people who are like 'Review or I'll never update' and then you are like 'god you're so desprete and annoying!!!' I know, but please..._

_And by the way if anyone can tell me what band Alec Ounsworth is from...well you get a gold star!!!_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I do not own any of this. All of this beautiful story is Ms. Dessen's. I only claim the thought's of Owen and the various different scenes I put in myself. Enjoy. Read and Review.

* * *

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View_

"Owen! Come on! It's just for a little bit."

"No."

"Why not?"

This had been going on for almost ten minutes. Mallory just didn't know when to stop. She was trying to convince me to take pictures of her and her friends having a fashion show at her sleepover tonight, or whatever they were planning on doing.

"Why not?" I retorted.

"Yeah," Mallory said crossing her arms. "Why not?'

"Well, for several reasons, actually," I said. "One, I have a ton of work to do on the show and don't have time to take pictures of you and your stupid friends—"

"I-lang!"

"Two," I said ignoring her, "last time I said I would do this, I was nearly sexually harassed by one of your boy crazy friends—"

"She did not sexually harass you."

"And three, I am really not in the mood to deal with all the drama that you and your annoying little friends can work up in a very short amount of time may I add."

"Oh, come on Owen!" she said throwing her arms in the air. "They'll be here any minute, and I told them you would take our pictures."

"Well, that's your problem, I guess."

"Owen, mom said you were in charge. And that means that you are supposed to supervise my party. So if you're going to be downstairs anyway—"

"Which I'm not."

"You might as well just take our pictures."

I thought for a moment. Mallory was never going to drop this. She was too stubborn, and I was extremely close to loosing my temper.

"I don't have all night." I said spinning around in my desk chair to look at her.

"I know, it won't take that long," she said.

"And I'm not dealing with any of the crying or yelling or what ever other crap you can think up."

"I know. We'll be good. I promise," she said starting to bounce up and down on the balls of her feet.

I thought for a few more moments about what I was getting my self into.

"Fine."

"Oh, Owen! Thank you so much," she said running up to me and hugging me around the shoulders. "You won't regret it. It's going to be awesome. I have to go finish getting everything ready. They're gonna be here in a few minutes and I don't even have the music ready."

"I can burn you a CD real quick," I offered thinking that I could at least get out of having to listen to the crap she calls music.

"No!" she said quickly.

I raised my eyebrows.

"I mean," she scrambled, "I already have all the songs ready I just have to – bring them downstairs."

"Huh," I said, knowing she just didn't want to make her friends listen to the 'horrible, noise I call music'.

"Just – I have it okay?"

"Fine."

"Okay. Be ready to go in twenty minutes."

I sighed as she almost skipped out of my room. What was I thinking? Today had been such a good day, and now it was going to be ruined by a bunch of little girls.

I stood up and walked over to my bed where I turned up the volume of my stereo. 'Who Left The Lights Off Baby?' streamed from the speakers as I sprawled myself across the bed.

"Oh, God," I said to myself.

I lay there for a while thinking about what had happened that morning. I wondered whether Annabel had as much fun as I did. And I wondered if she knew my real intentions of asking her to go to Bendo with me on Saturday. Did she see it as what I saw it as?

I couldn't help feel a little sick at the thought that she only considered it a 'friendly outing' and not…well, a date.

Is that what it was? A _date_? That sounded so weird. It had been a while since I had been on a real date. And even then, the girls were nothing compared to Annabel.

I faintly heard the doorbell ring. Mallory's friends must have arrived. I decided I would wait a little longer before going downstairs. I would let them get settled.

A few minutes later I pushed myself up thinking the faster we got this picture-taking-fashion-parade going the faster it would be finished and I could get to work on the show.

I turned off my stereo and opened the door leading into the hall. I could hear Mallory in her room with her little friends not doubt showing them her room.

I walked down the hall towards her room sighing when I got close.

"Mallory, I told you, if you want me to take pictures, let's go ahead and do it. I've got a show to work on and I don't—" I was cut off when I saw Annabel sitting in my sister's room. She stood up when she saw me. "—have all night," I finished. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

It would be an understatement to say that I was surprised to see her. I didn't expect to see her so soon.

"She came for my party," Mallory told me.

I narrowed my eyes at Annabel not believing what I was hearing. "You came for this?"

"You're helping with the photo shoot?" Annabel replied.

"No," I said. "I just—"

"We needed a photographer," Mallory explained to Annabel for me, "for the group shots. And now we have a stylist, too! This is perfect." She clapped her hands. "Okay, everyone, downstairs and into position. We'll do our group pictures first, then move on to individual. Who has our shoot list?"

A dark haired girl got up and handed Mallory a piece of paper. "Here," she said.

"Okay," I said to Annabel, "tell me why you're really her."

"Fashion is my life," she told me. "You know that."

Mallory cleared her throat. "Daytime Casual first," she said, "followed by Workplace Classy, Evening Elegant, and Nighttime Formal."

"Fantasy Engagement," A blond girl I remembered as Elinor corrected her.

"Downstairs!" Mallory said. "Let's go!"

The girls filed out of the room at Mallory command, Elinor dragging behind. I saw her shoot Annabel a look I didn't understand and then turn her attention to me as she walked past me.

"Hi, Owen," she said.

I nodded at her trying not to be mean. "Hello, Elinor," I said to her. I saw her face visibly blush and she picked up her pace, almost sprinting into the hall. I heard a wave of giggles from the other girls in the hall.

"Owen," Mallory said following them, "I'll need you downstairs in five, ready to shoot. Annabel you can style and supervise."

"Watch the tone, Mallory," I told her. "Or you'll be taking self-portraits."

"Five minutes!" she said in reply turning to boss her friends around.

"Wow," Annabel said to me. "This is quite the production."

"Tell me about it," I said sitting down on the edge of the bed. "And mark my words: it will end in tears. It always does. These girls have no concept of thinking toward the middle."

"Thinking toward what?" she asked coming to sit next to me.

"The middle," I told her. "It's an Anger Management term. It means not only thinking in extremes. You know, either I get what I want to I don't. Either I'm right or I'm wrong."

"Either I'm Fantasy Engagement of I'm Nighttime Formal," she replied.

"Right," I said thinking again how she was always able to grasp exactly what I was talking about. "It's dangerous to think like that, because nothing is totally cut-and-dry. Unless, apparently, you're thirteen."

"Miss Fantasy Engagement does seem like a bit of a diva," she said.

"Elinor?" I let out a breath. "She's a piece of work."

"She seems to like you quite a bit."

"Stop it," I said shooting her a dark look as if I couldn't believe she would ever say such a thing. "That's I-lang. Big-time."

"You know the whole model-photographer-hookup thing," she said bumping me with her knee. "It's practically required."

"Why are you here, again?" Trying to get off the subject of model's having relations with the photographers. The picture of Annabel in the arms of some horrid, dirty, photographer was starting to make my blood boil.

"I just came by to drop this off," she said holding up my jacket. "I forgot to give it back to you this morning."

"Oh," I said. "Thanks. But you could have waited until Tuesday, if you wanted."

"I would have," she said reaching into the pocket of my jacket and pulling out my iPod, "except for this."

My eyes widened. How could I have forgotten that was in my pocket. "Oh, man," I said taking it from her. "That I would have missed."

"I figured you probably were already."

"Not yet," I said. "But I was about to start planning next week's show, so pretty soon, I would have. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

There was a burst of noise from downstairs, and I knew the drama had already begun. "See?" I said. "Tears. Guaranteed. No middle."

"Maybe we should just hide out here," she said. "Might be safer."

She had no idea how much I wanted to be in an empty room with her. Just not this one. "I don't know," I said, glancing around at the walls. "Looking at all these pictures gives me the creeps."

"At least you're not in them," she said.

"You? There are ones of you here?" I couldn't believe it.

She pointed at a group of pictures on the wall and I got up to go look at them. "It's nothing special," she said. "Really."

I looked at the pictures for a moment thinking about them in relation to the Annabel that I knew now. They were obviously taken a while ago, as she looked different. "It's strange," I said finally.

"Gee," she said. "Thanks a lot."

"No, I mean, you don't look like you, or something." I paused looking closer. "Yeah. I mean, you look familiar, but not like the same person at all."

She was still beautiful, but just…_different_.

"No offense," I said when she didn't say anything.

"It's fine," she said shaking her head.

"I mean, it's a nice picture. I just think you look better now."

"Now?" she asked in what I guessed was disbelief.

"Yeah," I said turning to her. "What did you think I meant?"

"I don't…" she began. " Never mind."

"You think I'd tell you that you looked better here?"

"Well," she said, "you _are _honest."

"I'm not a jerk, though," I told her. "You look good. You just don't look like you. You look…different."

"Different bad?" she questioned.

"Different different." I replied.

"Super vague," she pointed out. "Placeholder. _Double_ placeholder."

"You're right," I admitted. "What I mean is, looking at this, I think, _Huh, that's not Annabel. That doesn't look like her at all."_

"What do I look like?"

"Like this," I said nodding towards her. "My point is, I don't know you as someone who gets their picture taken in a cheerleading outfit. Or even as a model, period. That's just not you to me."

I didn't know how else to explain it. To me she was just Annabel. Annabel who shared her lunch with me, and argued with me about the finer points of music. I couldn't see her as anyone else.

I wanted to try an explain it further but was cut off by Mallory yelling up the stairs. "Owen! We're ready for you now!"

I rolled my eyes walking over to where Annabel still sat holding out my hand to help her out. "Okay," I said to her. "Come on."

She put her hand in mine and I pulled her up. It was a moment before we released each other's hands. It felt so right to have her hand in mine. We fit so perfectly. Her tiny, smooth hand, held in my big one.

* * *

_A/N: Haha! I know you probably hate me right now, but what can I say. I liekt o keep you on your toes. I couldn't have given you the whole photo shoot all in one chapter. What fun would that be...Read and Review and you might just get the second half. I know I'm excited!! I put another little quiz thing in here...'Who Left The Lights Off Baby?' is a song sung by who??? I know you want that gold star!!!_

_And by the way...the chapter is dedicated to a very special friend. I hope you're reading...you know who you are...and if you don't well...you should..._


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Drumroll please...and now what you've all been waiting for...Chapter 12 (Which I own none of even through I wish is did becasue I have absolutly fell in love with this story since I started writing this, but I don't it's all Ms. Dessen's)

* * *

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View_

I am good. No really, I am. I knew that within the hour there would be a major meltdown. I had seen it happen so many times before I could practically time it down to the minute.

"It's not fair!" yelled a girl named Angela. Apparently, Angela was upset about having to always be 'Workplace Classy'. I personally couldn't fathom why this would be a problem, but then again I am not a thirteen year old girl.

"You look good," Mallory said dismissively. "What's the problem?"

"I want to be Evening Elegant," Angela protested. "When is it my turn?"

"Owen!" I heard Elinor say from the side of me. "Are you ready for me?"

I thought about what Annabel had said earlier and suddenly these words didn't seem so innocent. "No," I told her. "Not even close."

This was stupid. Not only were these girls arguing about what fashions they would wear but they were doing it to horrible music. They could at least rip each others heads off to good, loud angry music. I didn't know how much more I could take. I felt like my brain, or at least my ears, were going to implode.

"It will be your turn," Mallory said to an unconvinced Angela. "But Workplace Classy is very important. Someone has to do it."

"Then why don't you?" Angela countered.

Mallory sighed. "Because my look is better suited to evening," she said. I guessed that this really meant that she didn't really want to do it. "With your glasses, you look better doing serious corporate looks."

"You know," Annabel said obviously trying to prevent a major breakdown, "maybe she could take off her glasses."

"I'm ready!" Elinor shouted to me. "Go ahead! Get the shot!" I winced as I raised the camera to my eye and took shot after shot, while Mallory and the other girls posed. Then Elinor blew a kiss into the camera, and I swear I felt like I was going to puke.

"You know," I said as Elinor got on the floor and began to do some tribal withering thing towards me, "I think we're about done here." There was only so much I could take.

"But we haven't got the group shots!" Mallory protested.

"Then you'd better get those together," I told her. "Your stylist and photographer get paid by the hour, and you can't afford us for much longer."

"Okay fine," she mumbled. "Everyone together in front of the backdrop, now!"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Annabel leading one of the girls back to the 'powder room'. I followed wanting to get Annabel alone for a minute.

I could hear them talking in the small room, and then Angela came out of the room holding some clothes. She smiled at me as she passed and I smiled back.

I turned the corner and saw Annabel bending down looking through the pile of discarded shoes and other various articles of clothing on the ground.

I was struck by how beautiful she looked in the bright light of the room. I had been trying to deny the feelings I had been having towards her for the past few weeks, but I could plainly see that I couldn't much longer. I liked her.

There I admitted it. I like Annabel Greene. I couldn't help it and I couldn't lie to myself anymore. After all, that is what I was doing. I was lying to myself, trying to deny what I was feeling. I was scared, and that was one thing that I hated almost as much as lying.

After Anger Management, I told myself I would tell the truth to everyone I knew. But maybe I had been so focused on not lying to the people around me, that I forgot about not lying to myself. And when you think about it, that's the worse type of lying you could possibly do. If you can't be truthful to yourself, than who can you be truthful to.

I had been standing there just watching Annabel for a few moments before she looked up. She was so beautiful.

"One sec," she said. "We're changing our look."

"I heard," I said stepping into the room, leaning against the door frame. "That was nice of your. Helping her out."

"Well," she said, "modeling can be an ugly business."

"Yeah?" I asked.

She nodded as she stood up and leaned against the door frame opposite me. After a moment, I lifted the camera up to my eye and looked through the lens at her meaning to take her picture and capture the moment.

"Don't," she said covering her face with her hand.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I hate having my picture taken."

"You're a _model_."

"That's why," she told me. "It's gotten old."

"Come on," I pushed. "Just one."

She dropped her hand from her face and looked at me through the camera. She didn't smile but I could tell from the moment I pressed the shutter button, that she would look perfect nonetheless.

"Nice," I said.

"Yeah?"

I nodded turning the camera over to look at the display. She stepped over to look at the picture as well.

I wished she could see what I could. I wish she knew how beautiful she looked just being herself. Her hair, unbrushed, still had a silky look that made me want to reach out and run my hand through it . Her face, makeup free, had a natural beauty that couldn't be denied. Her eyes stared out to me, reaching for the deepest part of my soul.

"See," I said breaking the moments silence. "_That's_ what you look like."

She turned her head towards me as to say something but stopped when she came to the realization of how close we actually were. She was right there, standing next to me in the tiny room off of the hallway, a million miles away from the screaming girls in the next room.

Before I could rationalize my action; before I could stop and wonder if she wanted the same as I did, I turned my head and bent down to her. One second stretched on for a timeless moment until our lips touched.

Her lips we so warm, her body so small and warm as she pressed up against me. Heat rushed through my body and flooded into my heart and my brain, causing my pulse to race, adrenalin to flow through my veins at a rapid pace. My brain lost all train of thought – I was falling.

In that one split second, thought flooded through my head. Never before had I thought that just one kiss could send my mind into a whirlwind. I imagined things that I was sure would haunt me for the rest of the night.

In that moment, I knew things wouldn't be the same. And then, just a quickly as it had happened, it was over…

"I'm ready for my shoes."

We both jumped startled by the sudden appearance of Angela. "Shit," I said hitting my head on the doorframe. Why did she have to interrupt _now_?

Annabel looked down at Angela who was looking back at her. "Shoes," she said, handing them to her. "Right."

I stood there rubbing my head, my eyes closed. "Man," I said. "That smarts."

"Are you okay?" she asked. I nodded and she reached out to touch her small fingers to my temple. Her hand was soft and warm on my face. She kept her hand there a moment before taking it away.

"Owen!" Mallory yelled from the other room. "We're ready! Let's go!"

I pushed myself off the doorframe and made my way into the living room. The girls were already in full swing, preparing for their photo shoot. I snapped picture after picture trying to relieve my mind of what had just happened, trying to refocus and calm down.

Only Annabel could make my heart race, my blood pluse through my veins without getting me mad at the same time.

I wondered what she was thinking about. Did she regret what happened? Did she want it to happen? What would happen at school on Monday? Would things be weird?

The girls in front of my started laughing and began to dance to another shit song, and I quickly got out of the way before I was taken down by their crazy jumping and twirling. I saw Annabel out of the corner of my eye and turned the camera on her.

Again she looked startlingly beautiful standing in my living room in the bright light with the loud music surrounding us. She smiled and I pressed the shutter snapping another memory.

* * *

"I can handle it," I told Annabel as we were standing on the porch. "If I were you, I'd get out while I could. It's only going to go downhill from here. Annabel had offered to help get the house cleaned up before my mom returned home to find it in complete ruins, but I declined.

"So optimistic," she said.

"No," I replied. A shriek came from inside the house followed by a slamming door. I turned towards the house contemplating wrapping all of their mouths in duct tape and tying them to the kitchen chairs. "Just realistic."

She smiled at me and moved down one step towards her car parked on the street. "So I'll see you at school, I guess." She said looking up at me.

"Yup," I said. "See you then."

But still, neither of us made any move to leave as we said we would. I was fixed in the spot by some weird force.

"Okay," she said. "I'm, um, going." Still she made no move to leave and I stepped a little closer.

"Right," I said. I leaned down to her as she leaned up, obviously wanting the same as me. Just as our lips were about to close over each other's, a loud sound from inside the house started approaching us. It got louder until the doorknob rattled and Mallory burst out onto the porch.

"Wait!" she said running as best she could in her high heals. "Here. These are for you."

She handed Annabel a stack of picture fresh from the printed.

"Wow," she said flipping through a few. "These are great."

"They're for your wall," Mallory told her. "So you could look at me sometime."

I carefully swallowed the sarcastic comment that rose in my throat and kept my mouth shut.

"Thank you," Annabel told her.

"You're welcome," Mallory said to her before turning to me. "Mom just called from the car. She'll be home in ten minutes."

"Right," I sighed. I turned to Annabel, "I'll see you later."

She nodded and I turned with Mallory to go back into the house. Mallory turned back once to wave at Annabel, but I couldn't bring myself to look back. I couldn't be held responsible for my actions if I made eye contact with her and felt the burning desire to go back outside and finish what we had started.

"Alright!" I yelled once inside and safe. "Shut up and clean this mess before I tell mom, Mallory, that you took some of her clothes and most of her shoes to use in your dress up game."

"Fashion photo shoot!" Mallory said before promptly quieting down after seeing the look I was giving her. In fact they all quieted down to my surprise and joy. Sometimes being the scary older brother did have its advantages.

* * *

"All through your body?" Rolly asked for what seemed like the tenth time since I had told him what happened over the phone.

We had gotten the house cleaned up just in time for the arrival for my mom without any further protest from any of the girls. Although, for a few more "innocent" advances on me by Elinor.

"Rolly," I said, "I told you what happened already. If I wanted to talk to a girl, which is what you are acting like, I would go to Mallory."

"Oh," he said in reply. "Sorry."

Rolly had only been slightly surprised when I told him of the kiss. He said he had expected as much. What he couldn't seem to believe was how much it had affected me.

"Nah," I told him. "It's all right. I still can't believe it either. It was so strange, like I couldn't breathe but I could, and I don't know."

"So…" he trailed off. "You must really like her then."

"Yeah. But you already knew that."

"I know. But you didn't."

"Strange, isn't it?" I said.

"What?" he asked.

"I never thought I could really feel like this," I switched the receiver from one hand to the other. "That sounds so corny and lame, but its true. After my parents divorce I think I unconsciously tried to not get into a relationship with any one. And then I got angry, and it just got worse."

He didn't say anything so I continued.

"I mean, you know how you felt when you saw that girl in the mall?"

"Yeah," he said uncertain of where I was going with this.

"Well, from that time on she was all you could think about. You didn't even know her and she occupied all of your thoughts. But then, when you finally saw her again you froze. You couldn't talk to her because you we're afraid."

"I was not," he said defiantly.

"Yes you were."

"Was not."

"Whatever, that's not the point," I said trying to get back on track. "From the moment I saw Annabel I knew that I wanted to meet her. And then when I did I knew I wanted to know her. And then the more I knew the more I wanted to know. She intrigues me. I think I finally understand why you are so obsessed with that girl. Why you couldn't talk to her before. I couldn't understand before because I hadn't experienced it, but now that I have I understand."

"Mind-blowing. Isn't it?" he said sighing.

"Yeah," I said. "It is."

"Sometimes I wonder if this is what girls feel like all the time."

"Shut up."

"What?"

"You did not just compare us to girls," I said with mock horror.

"I didn't compare _us_ to girls. I compared what we were _feeling_ and more specifically what we were _doing_ to what girls feel and do."

"How insightful."

"Well what do _you_ think we're doing?" he asked.

"Well –" I started. "We're…having a…a manly conversation about women."

"Now, that's insightful," he said scoffing.

"Fine, you can be a girl all you want but I will stay a boy thank you very much Rolly."

"I'm not a girl!" he said pointedly.

"Whatever you say."

"Dude, stop."

"Not really I believe you," I said trying to sound earnest. I knew he wasn't, but sometimes it was just fun to get him riled up, and have him be the angry one for once.

"It's not funny."

"On the contrary, I think it is very funny."

"I'm hanging up now." He said.

"You know what, I'll see you tomorrow," I said. "I was thinking maybe we could go down to the nail salon and get our nails done maybe get a facial."

"Bye."

"Maybe I could get my sister's old Barbie's out of the basement and we could play with those."

"You're dead." And with that he hung up on me. I smiled and put the phone down leaning back against my headboard.

I thought about everything that had happened that day. It seemed so long ago that we, Annabel, Rolly and I, were sitting in below freezing temperatures eating bacon with a side of bacon basically. It was hard to believe it was just this morning.

I picked up my iPod and switched it on. Putting the headphones in my ears, I turned on a song that seemed like it would be perfect for the moment. Thinking of Annabel's kiss, I closed my eyes and lost myself in the music.

Maybe it was just a coincidence, or maybe my self-conscious was finally working but just then, I remembered that this was the song I was listening to when I first saw Annabel sitting there on the wall.

_"And I'm not running any more, I'll stand to face it all,  
I'll fight for every breath  
Until there's nothing left of us"_

_

* * *

A/N: I am so sorry I havent' updated in so long I have been out of the country and then I didn't have my book. Believe my it has hurt me as much as it has probably hurt you, but that you for staying with me and not giving up. It makes me happy. I love you all. Thanks to all those who reviewed and even those who didn't (I guess). Hope you liked this chapter. It got a little weird with the phone call and everything...but whatever. C'est la vie!_

_So another little quiz. Let's see if you can tell me what song the quote at the end is from and what band sings the song. I might give you a clue if you can't get it but I want to see if anyone can. It's an awesome band._


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Hello everyone, I know you all have been waiting patiently (and impatiently) for this next chapter but here it is. What took me so long, was that I was planning on inserting my own part in this including Dexter and John Miller and all them from This Lullaby (which if you haven't read you should), but it didn't work out and I was getting frustrated and that is not good. So here it is...Chapter 13 - the Car Wash scene. Hope you like. Read and Review please and I will update faster. Summer is here so that means more time to write!_

* * *

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View 

I was driving home from running an errand when I saw Annabel walking across the parking lot of the big Kopf's department store. I quickly switched lanes making to turn into the parking lot after the light. The white sedan behind me didn't seem to pleased with my sudden decision, but I felt sure it was the right one.

After all, we hadn't talked since we well…kissed, and plus I really needed her to hear what was currently blasting from my sound system.

I turned into the parking lot turning the music down as I approached her next to her car.

I screeched into the spot beside her. She looked over startled for a moment before seeing it was only me.

"Get in," I told her, leaning over to push open the door for her.

"Is this an abduction?" she asked looking doubtful.

I shook my head gesturing impatiently with my hand for her to get in the car. I was just too excited.

"Seriously," I said, pushing buttons on the radio trying to get it set up. "you have to hear this."

"Owen," she said watching me, "how did you know I was here?"

"I didn't," I replied almost laughing at the idea of following her. "I was just at that light, heading home, when I looked over and saw you. Check this out."

I reached for the volume and turned it up. A moment later, it began.

I whooshing sound filled the car. Then the violin began its crazy dance. The instrument screeched note over note, chord over chord producing and sound so different from anything ever made before.

It was ugly and beautiful at the same time. I nodded my head to the beat, hard to follow as it was, it was there. Buried in the genius of the music. The violin skipped and dove.

"Great right?" I said feeling myself grinning.

"What is this?" she yelled to be heard over the music.

"They're called Melisma," I yelled back as the bass kicked in creating a new feel. "It's a music project. These awesome string players, synthesized, and blended with various world beats, influenced by all kinds of different music styles all over the world. I guess you could think that it's really a collaborative thing, this whole music initiative. Incredible right?"

Just then there was a crash of cymbals indicating that the song was coming to an end, closely followed by Annabel raising her hands to her ears.

I felt the shock fill my face. I can't believe she had just done that. Sin. That's what it was.

The song ended just as she put her hands down but what was done was done.

"You did not," I said, my voice low, "just cover your ears. Did you?"

"It was an accident," she said. "I just—"

"That's _serious_." I reached forward and turned down the CD. "I mean, it's one thing to listen and respectfully disagree. But to shut it out entirely, and not even give it a chance—"

"I did give it a chance!" she defended.

"You call that a chance?" I asked. "That was five seconds."

"It was long enough to form and opinion," she said defiantly.

"Which was?" I pushed.

"I covered my ears," she told me. "What do _you_ think?"

I took a breath wanting to say the first thing that came into my mind, but deciding against it. "Melisma," I said, "is innovative and textured."

"If by textured you mean unlistenable," she said quietly, "then I agree."

"I-Lang!" I said pointed at her as she shrugged it away. "I can't believe you're saying that! This is the perfect marriage of instrument and technology! It's unlike anyone's ever done before! It sounds incredible!"

"Maybe in the car wash," she muttered under her breath not looking at me.

I took in a deep breath, trying to catch up and understand how car washes fit into this conversation. I let my breath out. "What did you just say?"

"I said…" she cleared her throat. "I said maybe it sounds incredible in the car wash."

I stared at her. I must have missed something. I watched as she picked at the edge of her seat, obviously trying hard not to look at me. "Which means what?" I said finally breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

"You know what it means," she said.

"I truly do not. Enlighten me."

"Well," she said slowly, "you know, everything sounds better when you're driving through the car wash. It's just like a fact. Right?"

I didn't say anything, just looked at her trying to decide if she was for real. Never before had I heard anything about things sounding better in a car wash, but there was a first time for everything right?

"My point is," she continued, "it's not my thing. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have covered my ears' that was rude. But I just—"

"Which car wash?" I interrupted.

"What?"

"Which is this magical listening station, whereupon all musical worth is decided?"

She just looked at me a moment. "Owen."

"Seriously, I want to know."

"It's not any one car wash," she said. "It's the car-wash phenomenon. You really don't know about it?"

"I don't," I repeated almost chuckling at the surprise in her voice. I mean of course, I, the musical genius, the king of all things musical, should know of this amazing idea! "But I will. Starting now."

I reached down putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the parking spot I had so gracefully skidded into only a few minutes earlier.

"So how do you know about this?" I asked Annabel as we were pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street towards the car wash.

"Well, I guess it was all my mom. We would just be driving down the road, and the car wash would come into view and she would just decide she wanted to go through it. She used to say that it wasn't about the wash, it was the _experience_."

"The experience," I repeated.

"Yeah," she said. "There was always just something about driving into that dark bay, the water suddenly whoosing down like the biggest and most sudden thunderstorm ever. It would wash down the windows and clean off all the impurities and imperfections that it could and if you closed your eyes you could almost imagine you were floating along with it. It was eerie and you always whispered, even if you didn't know why. And then there was the music."

I didn't say anything. Annabel seemed to be lost in her memories. Swirling around in her head, and I was beginning to swirl too.

"My mom loved classical stuff – it was all she would play in the car, which drove me and my sisters nuts. We'd sit there and beg and beg for normal music, anything from this century, but she was so stubborn. She used to tell us that when we drove, we could listen to anything we liked before she would crank up the music.

"But in the car wash, her music was different. It was beautiful. I could close my eyes and enjoy it, understanding what she heard every time she listened to it, car wash or not."

"Interesting how that happens," I said quietly half to myself.

"When I finally got my own license," she continued, I could play whatever I wanted, which was great. But still, the first time I went through the car wash by myself, I flipped through the radio until I came upon a classical station, just for old times sake. But then when I was pulling into the wash, the station faded out and on came this horrible, twangy country song, that I would have normally hated and changed in an instant. But it was weird. In the car wash it was different. It sounded perfect."

"Wow," I said honestly impressed but still slightly doubtful. This could be a bunch of bullshit for all I knew.

"Yeah," she said. "And since then I have come to the decision that anything sounds good in the car wash."

"Okay then," I said driving up to the 123SUDS wash and pushing some quarters into the cashier station.

"So what now?" I asked as the machine gave me my receipt and the red light beside the building turned to green. "We just drive in?"

"You've never done this?" she asked me.

"I'm not much for car upkeep simply for aesthetics' sake," I said. "Plus I think there's a hole in my roof."

She motioned for me to drive forward. I drive into the box, over the bump and up to the faded yellow line indicating me to 'Stop Here', and cut the engine. "Okay," I said. "I'm ready to be impressed."

She shot me a look. "You know," she said, "this is your first time, so for full effect, you really need to recline."

"Recline."

"It adds to the experience," she told me. "Trust me."

We both eased back in our seats. I sat there waiting for something to happen. I don't know what I was expecting, but I know that being this close to  
Annabel once again was already making my head spin, and I wasn't sure how a bunch of spinning brushes surrounding us would help.

"All right," she said leaning forward and turning on the CD again. "Here we go."

The water started swirling around us, over the windshield and down the side windows. Then with a splat, a drop of water fell from over my head and landed on my shirt.

"Oh, great," I said. "There _is_ a hole in my roof."

Just then, the next song on the CD started – a soft murmuring and then buzzing mixed with the plucking of a stringed instrument. All of it blended together with the rushing water above us. It meshed perfectly together.

The sad chords played by a violin sounding as if it had seen much pain stopped time. It was amazing and mind blowing. If I had ever before thought that I knew what true music was before I had been totally and completely off course. The reality of being in a small, concrete box, surrounded by water and bubbling soap suds made the notes more real. Truer.

I watched the soapy brushed clean off the dirt of my windshield with intensity. As if it was washing away the dirt that had clouded my vision before this moment. It was as if my eyes, or rather ears, were opened and I was the one to be enlightened.

And there was Annabel to share it with me. Maybe that's what made it so special. That I was able to share this moment of genius with the one person who I could really talk to and open up to; with the one girl in my entire life, that I ever really liked. Or maybe even loved.

I wanted to say something, but everything that came into my mind was either just completely stupid, or too corny and weird.

I looked over at her. She had her eyes closed. Her skin seemed to glow in the dim light if that was even possible. It cast a bluish light on her perfect white skin. Her hair, long and beautiful spread out over her shoulders. She turned toward me, her eyes still closer, her long lashes resting against her cheeks, and when she opened them I felt like I was melting.

I urged my brain to form a coherent sentence.

"You were right," I told her softly. "This is great. Seriously."

"Yeah," she said in reply. "It is."

I don't know what made me do it. Maybe the moment, maybe the smell of her skin, maybe the relization that I loved her finally hit me, but I found myself leaning towards her, my arms brushing hers sending shock waves through my body, and I kissed her. Really kissed her. No joking around. This was real.

Time stopped. It was silent. I was lost. And for once in my life, I didn't mind it. It was comforting.

Her lips were softer than I remembered. They were warm and inviting. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted her. All of her. The desire that I felt in my heart was more than I had ever felt before.

I wanted to stay like this forever. But I knew I couldn't. I needed to breathe. I needed to think. I pulled away from her and the reality of the world came crashing back. The wash was silent, the song over, and one final drop of water precariously dangled from the ceiling.

We watched as it dropped and landed with a plunk on Annabel's arm just as a horn beeped from behind us.

"Whoops," I said, both of us sitting up quickly. I started the engine. "Hold on."

We pulled out of the wash, the sunlight blinding. I pulled over to the curb.

"Man," I said blinking. "That was really something."

"Told you. Everything sounds better in the car wash."

"Everything, huh?"

I looked at her, her eyes somewhat off, focused on a memory. Was it of when she was little, going through the wash with her family? Or of our own experience, just now?

"I wonder," I said running a hand through my hair, "if it works for techno."

"Nope," she said flatly.

"You're sure?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," she nodded. "Positive."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well," I said pulling away from the curb and staring back around the building. "We'll see."

* * *

_A/N: So there it was. How'd you like it? Sorry no quizzes this time...there really wasn't a way I could fit something like that into this chapter. Maybe next chapter. By the way of you have any good suggestions about songs I should use for my quizzes, personal message me and let me know. Then you'll feel special! Don't forget to REVIEW!_


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

"So big night, eh?" Rolly said from his spot at my desk.

"What do you mean?" I asked looking in the mirror again.

"Well, just that it's you first date with Annabel."

"It's not a date."

"Yeah it is," he said standing and moving towards my CD player. "You asked her if she wanted to go to Bendo with you and she said yes. Sure sound like a date to me."

I didn't say anything. He put in a new CD and sat down on my bed.

"You don't know anything," I told him under my breath.

"I am frequently told that, and a don't doubt it believe me. But honestly, this is a date."

"Well, even if it is," I said spinning around in my desk chair. "It won't be any different than any other time we've hung out."

"Okay," he said. "Whatever you say chief."

We sat in silence listening to the CD for a minute, both bobbing our heads to the music. When the singing began we both looked up simultaneously, and seeing each other mouthing the words in perfect harmony, began laughing, forgetting our small disagreement.

"So,' Rolly said leaning back against my headboard and putting his arms behind his head. "Have you talked to Dexter or any of them recently?"

"Yeah," I said. "I called this morning and talked to Dexter. He said their set tonight should be pretty good. They're trying out a new rendition of 'The Potato Opus' or whatever their calling it these days."

"Fantastic," Rolly said laughing. "I swear that's all those guys ever work on. They're obsessed!"

"Yeah," I agreed. "But you gotta admit, it's pretty great. Totally original."

"Totally. Think Annabel will like it?"

"I hope," I said, trying to sound less nervous than I actually was. "Normally if it's not techno, she likes it."

"Huh?"

"Annabel doesn't like techno, remember?"

"What?"

"I swear I told you this already," I said sitting forward on the chair, knowing that I did.

"I thought you were _joking_!" he said in disbelief sitting up.

"No," I said. "I was completely serious. Why would I joke about something like that?"

"Well," he replied looking confused. "I don't know. I just can't understand how she can't like techno. _Everyone_ likes techno."

"You know, that's what I thought too, but she doesn't."

"Didn't you play the new CD that we got last month for her? I thought you said you did?"

"Yes…" I said slowly.

"And she didn't like it?"

"Nope."

"What's wrong with her?" he asked dubious. Rolly was a huge promoter of techno. We both listened to all genres of music, but while I tended to lean towards the crazy, abstract, alternative music as my favorite, he leans toward techno. It had been that way since we first met. I always found the latest cricket-chirping-raw vocals CD, and her would find the latest synthesizing-bass-popping one. It was a beautiful relationship.

"Rolly, I don't think there's anything wrong with her," I began coming to her defense. "She just doesn't like it. She's entitled to her opinion. I know it's hard to accept at first, but it gets easier."

"I guess. But why techno? Why not country or some other shit like that?"

"I couldn't tell you," I said trying to avoid one of his rants.

"Techno, is the beautiful blending of music and technology." Oh boy, here we go, I thought. "I goes where no other genre dares to go. The emotion that it can suck out of you is astonishing. To say that you don't like techno is like saying to don't like air, or pancakes. It's a _sin_!"

"Okay," I said sighing. "No more sugar for you."

"I'm serious."

"I know you are, Rolly. You don't need to tell me this, in fact I've heard it before so I already know twice over."

"Yeah, I guess," he said running his hands over his face and through his hair. "I just get so… intense, you know?"

"I know, but now I think we should just drop it. We can talk about it more later, but right now we have to talk about the show."

"Right," he said relaxing a bit. "What do we got?"

"Well, the show's mostly all set up, we just have to decide on a strong opening. I got a good Celtic dance/jig type thing for the closing song, you know, go out strong; nice and happy. But now we have to come up with a kick-ass opening song."

"So, do we have any prospects?" he asked leaning back again.

"Well, actually," I said swiveling around to face my computer. "I found some pretty good songs online last night."

"What are we waiting for? Let's check them out."

I opened my iTunes account and scrolled down until I found the first song I was looking for. I sat back as the song began.

Something's got my fear 

_And it won't get through my head_

_There's something missing_

_There's something missing here._

Even before the chorus, let alone the second verse kicked in, Rolly shock his head.

"No?" I asked pausing it.

"Not prominent enough. Put it on the lineup for next week through. I like it."

"You got it," I replied dragging it to the playlist I made for next week's show.

I scrolled back up to the top and selected another song.

"I'm not sure if this one would be a good one either but I really like it," I told him before playing it.

We listened in silence for a moment before turning to each other.

"Nah," we both said in unison.

"I'm gonna put it on the list for next show though. It's cool. Kinda different."

"I guess," he said doubtful. "Who is the man singing?"

"Andrea Bocelli. He's some famous Italian opera singer or something. My mom likes him. Supposedly, he's really old and blind but is still able to put on a rockin' show."

My mom liked to listen to him a lot whenever Mallory was out of the house at a sleepover or something like that. She said it relaxed her, but I think it is because it reminds her of my dad. Or at least the dad before things got bad; when he was still the man she fell in love with.

My parents used to dance to his songs in our living room when I was little. They loved to dance together.

I think she thinks I was too young to remember, but I do.

"Okay. Anything else?" Rolly asked.

"One more," I said pushing the memories of my childhood into the back of my mind where they belonged. Those times were over.

I pushed play. The bass began and soon the striking lyrics too.

_Careless in our summer clothes _

_Splashing around in the muck and the mile_

"Ooo," Rolly said. "I like this one."

"Shhh," I said. "Keep listening."

_Fell asleep with stains _

_Caked deep in the knee – what a pain_

I paused it before the chorus.

"What do ya think?" I asked spinning around.

"Now that," he started. "Is kick-ass!"

"So we're going with this one?"

"Totally."

"Cool." I dragged it to the playlist, pulled my iPod out of my pocket, and plugged it into the computer to update it.

"Wait," Rolly said suddenly. "Play the rest." I pushed play and we sat there in silence listening to the steady beat of the music, and the haunting lyrics that filled the small space that was my room. It was a great song.

* * *

_A/N: Hoped you liked it. I know it was kinda short, but I wanted to put something like this in and I didn't want to get into the whole Bendo thing yet…_

_So I got two more little quizzes in here. I know a lot of you like them. So if you can tell me who **both** of the songs are by (different bands) you get a special surprise. Yay for surprises!!!! _

_Thanks so much for all the reviews. It makes me feel so awesome that you all like the story so much. _

_Just to let you all know, I was thinking about what I would do when I was done with this which will probably be before the end of the summer. I was thinking of either "This Lullaby" from Dexter's point of view, or "The Truth About Forever" from Wes's point of view. I'm leaning towards the later, but I'd like to know what you think I should do. So vote I guess…_

_Keep reading and reviewing!_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: I do not own any of this. It is all Ms. Dessen's. Sorry it took so long, but I've been a bit busy. By the way, while writing this chapter, I realized many things that I noted wrong in the first and possibly second chapter. (Thanks nocens-somnium for making me aware. ) If I could go back and fix it now I totally would… but I can't really. I don't have the time between working, trying to finish this story, and outline a new one. So be patient please. I'm trying as hard as I can. Please stick with me through this. _

_And please read and review…it makes me eternally happy when I get home and see a bunch of reviews in my inbox._

* * *

Just Listen - Owen's Point of View

"Hey," a voice said from behind me. I didn't even need to turn around to know who was there.

I knew that voice so well by now. My heart did a little flip flop in my chest against my will, and I urged myself to seem normal as I turned around to greet her.

"Hey," I said back after I had turned around, although, to be honest, I don't know how I was even able to talk. My breath had been stolen from my lungs. She looked so beautiful. Maybe it was the dim light, or the fact that it was so hot in the club, or that I had been thinking about this moment for the past forty-five minutes I had been at Bendo. It could be any one of those reasons. All I knew was that I was feeling things that I had never felt before. And I liked it.

I didn't want to seem like a complete idiot standing there gawking at her. So I turned my eyes back to the stage.

"So," she said. "What'd I miss?"

"Not much," I replied as some idiot bumped Annabel from behind. She pitched forward and I reached out grabbing her arm to keep her from planting her face on the floor. Her skin was so warm and soft under my rough, hot hand. I pulled away before the desire to reach for more of her beautiful skin overwhelmed me.

"Whoa," I said. "Watch the footing, this place is kind of a mad house." There was a burst of feedback from the stage so I leaned down closer to her. "How was the fashion show?"

"It's over," she said sighing.

"That good, huh?"

"Pretty much," she said smiling.

"Well, never fear. When the band comes on, your night will improve."

"You think?"

"I know it will," I said getting bumped hard by a guy passing by. I glanced at him but he only shrugged it off and continued on his way. I took a deep breath. It was all I could do to keep from going after him and whipping the look off his face. "Okay. Time for a space break. Come on."

I turned and made my way to an open booth against the wall, all the way making sure Annabel was still behind me.

"Have a seat," I said gesturing towards the booth. "The view isn't as good, but at least no one's elbowing you in the kidney."

From the stage came the sound of someone tuning up, and then another burst of feedback. "The opener," I said, nodding toward the stage. "They were supposed to go on half and hour ago, but—"

I was cut off by the sudden appearance of Rolly next to me. "Oh, he said breathless, "my God."

"Finally," I said turning to look at him. "where the hell have you been, man? I was beginning to think you'd been abducted or something."

"No," Rolly replied. "You are not going to _believe_ what just happened."

"He went to get drinks about a half hour ago," I filled Annabel in. "I mean, I know the crowd is big, but that's ridiculous. And where's my water?"

"Dude," Rolly said shaking his head. "She's here."

"What?"

He took in a breath and held up his hands. "_She's here_," he repeated. "She's here, and she smiled at me." He didn't need to specify which "she" he was referring to. I could tell just by the way he said it that it was his would-be true love.

"For thirty minutes?" I asked half joking, but still annoyed that he didn't bring me back my water.

"No. Only for a moment."

"This is the girl that punched you?" Annabel asked.

"Yes."

"I can't believe you didn't get my water," I said.

"Would you just forget about that for a second?" He said frustrated, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think you're getting the significance of this situation."

"So you talked to her," I said.

"No. Here's what happened." He took a deep breath readying himself. "I was on my way to the bar and then suddenly, there she was. Boom! Popped up right in front of me, like an apparition or something. But just as I'm about to speak to her, someone steps between us. And the next thing I know, she's gone, walking away, surrounded by people. Since then I've been hanging back, waiting for the perfect in to present itself. I mean, it has to be just right."

"Why don't you offer to go get her a water?" I suggested. "You can pick up one for me while you're at it."

Rolly just looked at me for a moment forgetting about the girl. "What is up with you and this water thing?"

"I'm thirsty," I told him. "And I was going to go, but you offered. _Insisted_, I might add." No need to mention that he offered to get me a little something else to calm my nerves. I kinda just wanted him to leave so I could talk to Annabel alone for a little while.

"I will get you a water!" Rolly said. "But first, if you don't mind, I'd like to meet my destiny in the most ideal way possible."

"Look," I said sighing, "maybe you should forget about the ideal moment."

"I'm not following." Rolly said, staid as ever.

"It's taken a long time for you to see her again, right?" I said. "And who knows how much longer until the perfect moment. Maybe you should just do it. That way—"

I stopped when I saw his eyes widen suddenly. "Oh, shit," he said. "There she is."

"Where?" I asked leaning out of the booth and following his gaze.

"Don't' look!" Rolly exclaimed yanking me back. "God!"

I looked down at my arm where Rolly was clutching. He moved his hand away quickly.

"Okay," he said quietly. "She's standing by the door. In the red."

I once again, leaned out of the booth, took a quick glance to where he had indicated, then sat back up again. "Yep, that's her," I told them. I had indeed seen her. She had black hair and was wearing a red sweater. "Now what?"

"My point exactly," Rolly said. "I need an in."

"I'm just going to do a quick over-the-shoulder survey of the room," Annabel said to Rolly. "Okay?"

He nodded and I shot him a look. "She's a girl," he explained. "They can look without looking."

She turned to look behind her as I thought about how you could possibly look without looking.

"Wait," she said turning back to Rolly. "The girl…it's Clarke?"

For a moment Rolly just looked at her not saying anything. Then he shot across the table so fast, Annabel was forced back in her seat hitting the booth behind her. "Is that her name?" he asked his face inches from hers. "Clarke?"

She nodded cautiously. "Um…yeah."

After staring intensely at her for another moment, he finally settle back into his seat, allowing Annabel to breathe normally again. "She has a _name_. And it is Clarke. Clarke…"

"Reynolds," Annabel filled him in.

"Clarke Reynolds," he repeated seemingly dazed. "Wow." The suddenly his eyes widened and he snapped his fingers in indication that he just had a great epiphany. "That's it! That's my in. you."

He stared intently at Annabel again.

"Me?"

He nodded. "You know her."

"No," she said a little too quickly. "I don't"

"You knew her name," he said.

"We were friends once. It was—"

"You're _friends_ with her?" Rolly asked. "This is perfect." He seemed so happy and pleased with himself.

"It's really not," Annabel said shaking her head.

"You go up and talk to her, and then I'll walk by and you can introduce me," the plan was formulating in his mind whether Annabel liked it or not. "It's organic. It's ideal!"

"Rolly seriously," she said. "I'm not the person to get you close to Clarke."

"Annabel." He leaned across the table again. "Annabel, Annabel, Annabel Greene." I saw her stiffen a little; just enough for me to notice. "Please," Rolly said. "Jut hear me out." He reached out his hands to her.

She looked at me, but I just shook my head. I knew better than anyone that once Rolly got going he couldn't be stopped. It was impossible. She moved her hand out to his outstretched one on the table. He instantly grabbed.

"This girl," he said seriously, "is my destiny."

"Okay," I said, "now you're officially freaking her out."

"Rolly," Annabel said. "This thing is—"

"Please Annabel," he said. He put his other hand on hers so her palm was between both of his. "Please just introduce us. That's all I'm asking. One shot. One chance. _Please_."

Annabel was silent for a minute. She seemed to be in deep thought about something. I couldn't help but wonder why she was so reluctant to go and talk to Clarke for Rolly. Maybe she didn't' like Clarke. Or maybe Clarke didn't like her. I couldn't be sure. But there had to be a good reason

"All right," she said reluctantly. "But I'm just warning you: It might not work."

Rolly smiled at her and then waved his hands at me, indicating that I should get out of the booth. "I'll just go over by the bar," he said making his way out of the booth. "and wait until you've made contact. Then I'll casually happen by, and you can introduce up. Okay?"

She nodded as he ran off, looking a little like she regretted saying she'd help him. I couldn't help but feel there was something she wasn't saying; that there was something else on her mind.

"You sure you want to do this?" I asked as she stood up.

"No," she said honestly. She glanced back over to where Clarke was. "I'll be back in a second."

As she turned away I felt the sudden need to reach out to her and ask he what was wrong. "Hey," I said touching my hand to her arm. "Are you okay?"

"What?" she asked. "Why?"

"I don't know," I said dropping my hand. I looked at her searching for something. "You just seem…I don't know. Not yourself, or something. Everything all right?

I could see all the things she wanted to say swirling in her eyes. But for some reason I knew she wouldn't say any of them. Not yet.

"I'm fine," she replied. I knew it was a lie. I watched her as she walked away, wishing she would tell me. I thought we were past all the evasiveness. I wanted to know everything about her. The good and the bad.

Especially the bad.

Somehow, knowing that a girl who seemed so perfect on the outside, could have such conflicts in the inside made her all the more beautiful. She was human. She was a beautiful human being who had problems like the rest of us. I knew she thought she was being strong holding everything in, not letting anyone see what was really going on, but the truth was that it would only hurt her in the end.

There is only so much one person can hold in. Eventually all the pressure of holding a secret destroys you. It makes you do things you wouldn't normally do. Holding in anger and fear only makes that anger and fear stronger and more dangerous when it can no longer be held in.

I could tell she couldn't take much more. Over the last few months. I had uncovered so much. I had been able to help her take so much off her shoulders, even if it was something as seemingly small as admitting that she hated modeling, or that she was a completely different person than everyone thought she was.

She was going to explode soon.

I watched as she walked over to where Clarke was sitting. Just as she made it to the table, another figure appeared at mine.

"Owen!" Ted said as he sat down across from me in the place Annabel had occupied not minutes before. "How have you been? We weren't sure you would come tonight. Shit, there's so much to tell you."

"Hey Ted," I said glad for the distraction. "Where's the rest of the guys?"

"Oh," she said shaking his hands out. "They're back in the room. I needed some air, so I volunteered to see what the hell was going on with the show."

"I see," I replied. "How's the deal?"

He thought for a moment. "Awesome, exciting, painful, and annoying at the same time."

"How's that?"

"Well it's awesome and exciting because, well shit, it's a record deal. It's what we've wanted, and achieving it has been amazing. So far it's bee pretty damn crazy – that's where the painful and annoying part comes in. There's so much less freedom. We can't really just go out and do whatever we want and play wherever we want. I mean take this gig for instance. Don't get me wrong, I love playing Bendo. Crowd's great. But this band they have opening for us – they suck. I mean the show is a total shambles."

I saw Annabel approaching and as she slid in next to me, Ted continued his rant.

"It was better when we did the booking ourselves. At least then we had some say in the dates, and the venues. Now we're just their pawns, in their sick little corporate game."

"That sucks," I told him.

"It does," Ted said. "At least the single's getting some airplay nationally. I mean, that's what they _say, _who knows if it's true or not."

"Annabel," I said felling that Ted needed some kind of distraction. "this is Ted. Ted, Annabel."

"Hi," Ted said quickly.

"Hi."

"Obviously it didn't work.

From the stage there was a thumping noise as someone tested the mike. "Hey," a voice said. "This thing on?" I heard someone boo in the audience and felt the same way. That was such an amateur thing to say.

Ted sighed. "See, this is what I'm talking about. These jokers were supposed to do a mini set, and they haven't even started yet.

"Who are they?"

"I don't even know," he said disgusted. "the original opener came down with some kind of intestinal flu so they booked these guys to fill in."

"Should have just had you go on early," I told him. "It is an all ages show. Plus everyone's here to see you guys."

"My point exactly," Ted replied. "Plus if we had longer sets, we could try out some of the new stuff I've been writing. It's like, a total change for us."

"Really."

Ted nodded and I knew that I had successfully gotten his thoughts away from the impending show, if only for a moment or two. "I mean, it's not so far from our regular stuff. Just a little slower, with some more technical touches. Reverb, and all that."

"Technical?" I asked. "Or techno?"

"It's hard to say," he replied. "It's kind of its own thing. Maybe we'll be able to get a couple in the second set. Tell me what you think, okay? It's, like, supposed to be out there but still accessible."

I glanced at Annabel. "You know, if that's what you're after, you should ask Annabel what she thinks," I said. "She hates techno."

"Well," she said. "Actually—"

"So if she likes it," I continued, "it's not too far out there. If she hates it, though, it won't float with the masses."

"And she'd say of she hated it," Ted said looking at her.

"Yup," I nodded. "She's dead honest. Doesn't hold back."

Maybe I had exaggerated a little considering the fact that she had just lied to me a few minutes ago when I asked her if she was okay, but I thought that considering the fact that it was music, she would be honest. I secretly also hoped it would give her the push she needed to tell me what was wrong. Like the Jedi Mind Trick or something.

From the stage I heard the opening band finally starting up. Ted made a face and got out of the booth. "I can't tolerate listening to the crap; I'm going back. You want to come with?"

"Sure," I said. "Come on," I told Annabel.

We followed Ted, passing Rolly on the way. Not that he noticed. I think he was telling his whole life story to her, acting it out as well. I couldn't help but smile and shake my head.

We made our way to the back room, who's brightness what a sudden change from the darkness of the rest of the club.

"Owen! What's up man?" Dexter said standing up from where he was crouched on the ground by the couch.

"Not much," I said shaking his hand. "What about you?"

"Same old, same old," he said. He held up his cell phone and battery. "Just busted my phone. Again." Dexter was notoriously clumsy. A total dork. He just couldn't stop moving for more than a second.

"This is Annabel," I introduced.

"Dexter," he said, sticking his hand out to shake hers. "What's the word?" he asked Ted.

"The opener just went on,' Ted told him walking over to the small fridge and getting a beer for himself. "Are you guys pretty much ready?"

"Do we look ready?" John Miller said from his spot at the table playing cards with Lucas.

"No."

"Well, looks can be deceiving. Because we are."

Lucas laughed and Ted shot him a look, then sat down on the couch, resting his feet on the table in front of him.

"So," Dexter said sitting down and inspecting his battery. "What's new on the local music scene?

"Nothing worth talking about," I told him.

"No kidding," Ted said. "You should see the frat-rock cover band that's playing now. Total Spinnerbait wannabes."

"Spinnerbait?" Annabel said from beside me.

"They're a band," I said.

"Hate Spinnerbait!" John Miller proclaimed throwing a card down.

"Now, now," Dexter said, placing the battery as carefully as his restless hands would allow back into the phone, where it promptly fell back out. He reached down to grab it off the floor. "That's the thing that's great about this town," he said trying again to reunite the phone and battery. "there are so many bands to choose from."

"Doesn't mean any of them can play," Ted said.

"True. But variety is always a good thing," Dexter said as his battery fell out again. "In some places, you really only have a few choices and that" – the battery fell off again – "sucks."

"Dexter," A voice said from the corner of the room. We all turned to face a blonde girl sitting in a chair with a textbook in her lap. "Do you need help?" she asked him.

"Nope. I'm good. Thanks, though."

She got up, put her highlighter in the book, and the book under her arm and walked over to him. "Give it to me."

"No, I've got it," Dexter said turning the phone around in his hand. "I think it's busted for good this time, actually. Maybe something broke out of it."

She held out her hand. "Let me try."

He gave it to her, and in less that five seconds she had the battery clicked in and the phone working. She handed it back to him and sat down on the couch.

"Oh," Dexter said, turning the phone over and staring at it. "Thanks, honey."

"No problem." She opened back up her textbook, and smiled at us. "I'm Remy," she said.

"Oh! Sorry!" Dexter said touching her hair. "This is Owen and Annabel. This is Remy."

"Hi," Annabel said. She nodded and pulled out her highlighter again.

"Remy's slumming, touring with us over her fall break," Dexter explained. "She goes to Stanford. She's _very_ smart."

"Then why's she with you?" John Miller called out from the table.

"I have no idea," he replied as Remy rolled her eyes, "but I think it's my mad make-out skills." He leaned over and planted a few loud, sloppy kisses on her cheek. She winced and tried to push him away, but her fell into her lap stretched out across the couch.

"Stop," she said laughing. "God."

Suddenly, we heard a burst of feedback that could only be from the stage followed by some booing. "Hopefully, they're cutting that set short," Ted said. "Would anyone else like to perhaps, I don't know, get ready for our show?"

"No," John Miller said.

"Absolutely not," Lucas added.

Ted glowered at them, and then put down his beer and walked to the door opening it, and then slamming it hard once he was in the hallway.

"Gin!" John Miller yelled throwing his hands over his head. "Finally!"

Aw, man," Lucas said. "I was close, too."

"Off," Remy said to Dexter, who immediately tried his best to untangle himself from her lap. He stood up and his phone fell again. Thankfully, this time the battery did not fall out.

"Ted's right," he said. "We should get organized. Owen, you guys sticking around after?"

I glanced at Annabel. "Sure," I said.

"Cool. We'll catch up with you then, all right?"

"Sounds good."

I led Annabel back into the hallway. "Have a good show," I told the annoyed Ted who was leaning against the wall a few feet down from the door.

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled so low I almost missed it.

"All right," I said as we finally made it back to the booth and sat down. "Now comes the real music. You'll like this."

She nodded leaning against the wall and tucked a piece of her golden hair behind her ear. I just stared at her.

She glanced up at me. "What?" she asked.

"Okay," I told her. "Something _is _up with you. What's going on?"

She froze and didn't say anything. I continued. "I mean, when have you ever just assumed you'll like what I like? This could be Ebb Tide Two about to come on here. You have a fever or something?

I smiled, trying to keep the mood light, but really wondering whether she was okay.

"I'm fine," she said. "Stop distracting me. I need to concentrate on the music."

I didn't say anything to that. I almost believed her. But there was something in my gut that told me she fine. I could tell by the huge amount of people that were crowded around the stage that they were about to go on. From where we were sitting it was pretty impossible to see anything so I got to my feet.

"You should stand up," I told her.

"I'm okay," she said.

"Part of seeing a band live is actually _seeing_ them," I said. I held out my hand out for her.

She looked at it and then up into my eyes. There was a scared look in her eyes that I haven't seen since the first day we had met. The first time I reached out to her.

My hand was still outstretched to her when she spoke. "I'm, um, going to go to the bathroom," she said pushing herself out of the booth. "I'll be back in a second."

"Wait," I said, dropping my hand. I glanced to the stage. "The band's coming on…"

"I know. I'll be right back."

Then she started walking off before I could say anything else. I stood there for a moment watching as she fought her way through the crowd. I tried to convince myself that she meant what she said. That she had to go to the bathroom and would be back in a minute.

I turned towards the stage. I was tall enough that I could see over almost everyone's heads and see the stage fine. I watched as Dexter stood at the microphone and introduced the band; then as they all started playing, intent in their music.

John Miller looked as though he was at the top of his game today. He was striking the drums hard and was keeping the beat perfectly for the rest of them. They went through a few newer original songs first, one's I was less familiar with. Annabel still wasn't back. I hadn't moved very far from the booth so when she did she wouldn't lose me in the crowd.

The band had just finished another song when I heard the opening of the song that had made them so popular around here. The Potato Opus was a crowd favorite. The crowd was singing along with Dexter, jumping up and down with the beat.

Annabel hadn't returned. I told myself there was just a long line at the bathroom. The ladies room always has a long line. That was just something you had to except being a women my mom used to tell Mallory.

I decided I would wait a few more minutes before going to look for her.

When they were almost done with the set I made my way off to the bathrooms.

I was halfway there when I realized something I had failed to notice before. Something that should have been so obvious at the time. I had been here so many times, but I missed it.

Annabel hadn't come this way. She hadn't gone to the bathroom.

She had headed in the opposite direction – towards the exit.

* * *

_A/N: Hope you liked this chapter. It was really long, and took me a while to write, but it is finally finished. I am almost done. I'm hoping to do another maybe 5 chapters to make it an even twenty…including a little something extra at the end…wink wink…makes ya want to keep reading doesn't it!!! Well, I love you guys. You are what keeps me writing. So keep reading and reviewing it makes me eternally happy._


	16. Author Note 2

Sorry everyone but this is just a Author's Note…an exciting on though!!!

I've posted this on my profile also just in case you might want to look at that…son't know why though.

It has been decided. In a close but definite poll, you have decided the story I should write next is...

_Da Da Da DAAAA..._

**"The Truth About Forever" from Wes' Point of View.**

That's the one I was kind of leaning towards anyway. I can relate to him more. He's more like Owen, who has become all I think about for the past almost 8 months. So there you go.

Now what I need are some suggestions of what to name the story. I have decided to make this a contest too. Whoever comes up with the name I like most, will get to be the first person to read the last chapter of "Or Not". Yay!

So in a review, private message, or even email, tell me what you think the name of my new story from Wes' Point of View should be.

If you win, I will email the last chapter or "Or Not" to you before I post it. So start thinking!!!

**Love Always**, Siobhan -- politik780(at)yahoo..com --written regularly. FF is a spaz!


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: So here it is. The 17th chapter. Yay! As always, none of this is mine, it is all Ms. Dessen's. Although, sometimes I wish it were mine. That would make me happy. Remember to read and review. It makes me eternally happy when I get reviews in my inbox. And don't forget to come up with a title for my next story. You have a while still but don't forget. Thanks, Love Always, Siobhan_

* * *

Monday morning I woke up in the worst mood, I have been in for months. Annabel still hadn't called. I had stayed up late into the night, willing the phone to ring. All I wanted was to hear Annabel's voice telling me something, anything, to explain where she went Saturday night; why she left without a word.

I had spent the better part of my Sunday struggling with the decision of whether to call her or not. What did I know? She could have been kidnapped or had gotten lost. Either one of those things could have happened. However, something told me that was not the case.

My feelings were confirmed when I saw her pull into the school parking lot minutes before the first bell was to ring.

I walked up to her car, determined to talk to her before she could come up with an excuse to avoid me. I knocked loudly three times on her window before making my way around to the passenger side, pulling out my headphones from my ears, collecting my thoughts.

"What _happened _to you?" I asked her the second I was in and the door was shut behind me.

I stared at her waiting for her to respond. I could feel the anger welling up inside me. I couldn't help it. I didn't understand, and I was tired of being pushed aside.

"I'm sorry," she said, stumbling over her words. "I just…"

She trailed off, but I stayed silent wanting to her what she would tell me.

"I don't know what to say," she said finally. "I just…don't."

I didn't say anything at first. I tried to decode the meaning beneath the words, but I was coming up blank, so I took a stab hoping to draw it out. "If you didn't want to be there on Saturday, you could have just told me."

She but her lip and looked down. "I wanted to be there."

"Then what happened?" I asked. "Why did you just bolt? I didn't know what was going on. I waited for you."

"I'm sorry," she said again after a moment. "I just…there was a lot going on."

"Like what?"

She shook her head. "It's just a lot of stuff," she said.

"Stuff," I repeated. _Major placeholder of placeholders_ I thought. I exhaled; frustrated that she was lying to me. I looked out the window.

"I just don't get it," I said. "I mean, there has to be a reason, and you just don't want to give it. And that's just…" I stopped, shaking my head. "It's not like you."

For a moment, it was silent in the car. The air was thick with tension.

"It is though," she said breaking the silence.

I looked at her. "What?" I asked.

"It is like me," she said. "This is just like me."

As she said it, I was filled even more with anger and annoyance. I couldn't believe she was feeding me this crap – and expecting me to swallow it.

"Annabel," I said not believe a word she was saying. "Come on."

She looked down again. "I wanted to be different," she said. "But this is how I really am."

I thought about this. Pondered about whether this was some kind of teenage girl, image, self-respect kind of thing.

It had to be. She wasn't some apprehensive little girl anymore. There was a reason. She was different.

"Whatever it is," I said as the first bell rang, "You could have told me. You know that, right?"

I sat there waiting, one hand on the door. I was giving her the choice. The choice between whether she was the woman I knew she was, or the girl she thought she was.

Was she brave and strong, or timid and weak? What did she believe she was?

I knew what I believed she was.

I waited.

Then I pushed open the door and got out. Walking away, putting my earphones back on. I wondered if I had done the right thing.

"No regrets," I said out loud to myself, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

Still, I didn't know if I could believe it.

* * *

My morning classes leading up to lunch dragged by. They'd never gone by so slow. I spent most of the classes staring out the window. I was in a horrible mood, and it seemed like all my classmates and teachers could tell. 

No one dared talk to me, let alone look at me. It was like they felt my need to hit something.

I couldn't believe her. How could she just blow me off like that?

Obviously, the feelings that I had towards Annabel only days before, were not shared by her. Rolly was wrong; she didn't care about me.

I didn't know what to do.

Lunch came and I sauntered out to the wall where I had shared so many lunch periods with Annabel. She wasn't there when I arrived. I guess I wasn't really expecting her to, but I couldn't help but hope whenever I saw a flash or blonde hair pass by.

Deep inside I was hoping she would just pop up beside me and tell me everything, or at least let me in on the fact that I was on some hidden camera show.

I shook my head. What was I thinking? Did I even want to see her?

She had lied to me – several times. In every other situation, lying was a deal breaker. Why was this one any different?

So, I cared about her. So what?

Even as I thought this, I knew I was just spinning myself in circles.

I reached into my pocket and turned up the volume on my iPod, attempting to drone out the noise around me. I could feel the anger swell up again; fighting to get out.

I tried to remember all the tips I had learned at Anger Management. Breathe in, count to ten, and breathe out. Repeat.

It wasn't helping.

I got down from the wall and walked towards the entrance of the school. My fists were clenched in my pockets and I silently wished no one would get in my way at this moment. I didn't know if I could control what was coming.

I pushed open the door and stomped down the hall towards the men's bathroom.

_Screw anger management. _I told myself as I slammed open the door.

A thin boy drying off his hands froze and looked at me for a moment. I walked into the room, the boys' gaze shifting from me to the rest of the empty room, as if just realizing we were alone. I looked at him, and he bolted towards the door, paper towel still in hand.

I turned towards the mirror and stared at myself, stepping up to lean against the row of sinks.

I stood there a moment, just looking back at my reflection.

_Screw everything. _

I slammed my fist down on the sink and spun around, pulling my hands through my hair. I kicked open the first stall door with a force that made it swing back and forth several times. Still not completely okay, I walked towards the closest wall. I punched it hard enough to send a shooting pain up my arm.

I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.

It was quiet in the small room now. In my anger, my headphones had fallen out of my ears and were hanging lopsided against my chest.

My breathing was uneven, my heart rate still coming down from my explosion of anger. I turned around and leaned back against the off- white wall. I allowed myself to slide down until I was sitting, my knees bent, on the floor.

I stared up at the fluorescent lights that shone down on me.

I reached a hand up, running it through my hair and exhaled loudly. How could this have happened?

* * *

I had never been so incredibly happy that I got out after seventh period Mondays in my entire life. My hand hurt, and my head in comparison; I was still mad, and I didn't feel like chancing running into Annabel after the final bell rang. I just wanted to get out of there and go home so I could ice my hand. 

I walked out to my car and got in, taking out my ear buds and turning on the radio as soon as I started the car. I didn't have to pick up Mallory today so I would be able to go straight home.

I pulled into my driveway in record time, and turned off the car. I leaned my head back against the headrest and sighed. I looked down. "Shit," I said running a finger along the black and blue bruises forming on the knuckles of my hand. I opened the car door and stepped out. I walked quickly up the walk, wanting nothing but to get inside.

I got my key out and opened the front door. The house was quiet, and since my mom hadn't opened the store today, I assumed she had gone to pick Mallory up from school or run an errand.

I dropped my backpack at the bottom of the stairs and walked through the hall into the kitchen. It looked like it had been newly cleaned, the counters spotless. I went over to the refrigerator and got out some ice. Then, searching through one of the drawers by the sink I got out a towel and put the ice in it.

Sitting at the table with the ice pressed against my hand, I had no choice but to think back to today after I left the bathroom. I hadn't felt like going all the way back outside, and I was too early to go sit in my next class, so I made my way to the library, hoping it would be quiet and less crowded than the rest of the school.

I was right. There was barely anyone there. Just a group of honors student studying, a few students reading, and even a couple freshman, it seemed, frantically trying to finish the homework that they had failed to complete the night before.

I walked around for a few minutes; looking for a secluded place, I could sit and listen to my iPod, and at least attempt to plan next week's radio show.

I passed by an aisle of books in the American History section, when I stopped short, and backtracked a few steps. There, sitting at the end of the aisle, books spread out on the small table in front of her, was Annabel.

Her back was to me, angled slightly to the right, but I knew it was her.

So this was where she had gone? I should have guessed. There weren't that many places to go, and she had once mentioned to me that she loved to sit in the library and read occasionally when she had nothing better to do.

I stood there and gazed at her for a few minutes. I contemplated approaching her and trying to talk to her, but then I remembered what had just happened in the bathroom, and my sore hand, and reconsidered. I watched her, unmoving, until the first bell rang. Her head shot up, and she looked around, clearly startled. I quickly stepped behind the shelves on my left, to avoid being seen.

I wanted to look back, but I knew I shouldn't. I turned and walked back towards the exit. I can't be the one to break the silence, I told my self. She had to come to me and –

My musings were ended by the sudden sound of the front door opening.

"But Mom!" Mallory cried. "Everyone else has one. I don't understand why I can't. It's not fair!"

"Mallory," my mother said exasperated. "Just because everyone else has one doesn't mean that you need one too."

"Mom, you never listen to me," Mallory cried back stomping her foot. "You don't understand!" I heard her stomp up the stairs to her room, slamming her door once she was inside.

My mom walked into the kitchen sighing. "I swear. I pick her up early from school, and this is what I get."

"Hi mom."

"Oh, hi Owen," she said. "How was school?"

"Fine," I replied. "What is Mallory whining about?"

"Oh, some of the girls in her class have some kind of outrageously expensive purse," she said, "and Mallory feels she needs to have one too. You know how girls are."

"Oh."

"So the whole way home, I had to hear about how by not letting her have this purse, I was ruining her life and –" She trailed off, looking down at where I was holding the towel.

"Owen? What happened to your hand?" She walked over to the table and lifted my makeshift icepack off of my hand. "Oh, honey. How did this happen?"

She gently picked up my arm and ran her fingers lightly over the bruises. I struggled to keep my face straight, trying to pass off that it wasn't a big deal.

"It's nothing," I told her.

"Owen…you didn't…" she paused. "You didn't…get in a fight, did you?"

"No Mom," I said pulling my hand back.

"Oh thank God," she said sitting down in the chair to the right of me. "I don't know if I could go through that again. Owen please tell me what happened."

"I just got mad," I told her. "I punched the bathroom wall. That's it."

"Owen," she said flustered, running a hand through her hair and looking at me. "I thought we were over this. I thought the group therapy helped."

"It did mom," I said. "I just…got overwhelmed."

"_Overwhelmed?_" You were _overwhelmed?_ Owen, you cannot go around hitting walls every time you get overwhelmed."

"Mom, I don't."

"Well, what is this Owen? What is going on? I thought everything was good with you. You seemed happy."

"I was. It's just…" For once, I didn't know what to say – How to explain everything I was feeling. "I don't know what happened. I was just so mad…and sad. Hell, I was _smad_! It was too much. I had to do _something_."

"Owen, tell me what it is. I can help." She looked so concerned. I knew this was hard for her; my problems. I knew this was killing her. "Is it Rolly? Or school?"

"No it wasn't Rolly, or school, Mom."

"Well, then… is it Annabel?"

I froze. I couldn't lie to her but I really didn't want to be talking about this right now. However, it didn't look like I had much of a choice.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "It is."

"What happened?" she asked, her voice more gentle.

"She just…" I started, looking down at my restless hands, wishing I had just gone upstairs once I got the ice, and drowned myself in come heavy metal rock or something. Anything else than having this conversation. "She doesn't think that she's the person I know she is. She gave up."

"Owen," she said reaching out and taking my unhurt hand in hers. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding."

"No," I said more forcefully than intended. "No. It wasn't. She shut me out, it's over. And the worst part is that I felt like I could talk to her. Open up you know. I liked her in that sense."

"I know you did, Owen. But you know better than I do that sometimes you can be a little intense." I looked at her. "Don't get mad at me," she said. "I'm just saying. Maybe _she _got a little overwhelmed."

"I thought she had changed. I don't understand how she could just ditch me like that."

"What do you mean, ditch you?"

"At Bendo on Saturday. She just left. Didn't say anything, just left. Rolly said he gave her some waters for us to drink, but she never came back."

"Well, you talked to her right?" I nodded. "What did she say?"

"She said, that she had a lot of stuff going on. _Stuff._" I shook my head and looked down.

She was quiet for a moment. "Honey," she said scooting her chair closer to mine. "First loves are always hard."

"I don't… love her," I said quietly. "We were only just friends."

"I have been alive for quite a long time. I have seen, and had, many loves, and let me tell you, what you and Annabel have is more than a simple friendship." I shook my head. "Owen, I have never seen you so involved with anyone besides maybe Rolly in a really long time. I've seen the way you look when you talk about her. There's more there, Owen."

"Mom," I said. "Annabel and I were just friends. Sure maybe at one point I thought maybe there could be more, but it doesn't matter now. She hates me. And I'm not so sure I like her very much right now either."

"Owen, you've been through so much in the past few years. After your father and I got divorced –"

"Mom, don't bring dad into this."

"—I thought I was going to lose you too."

"What?" I tried to piece together what she was saying.

"Do you know how scared I was for you?" she asked, a look in her eye I had never seen before. "I didn't know what to do. You were getting into fights at school and then with the arrest…" I looked down, "Can you imagine how I felt? I was losing you. I was failing as a parent. You were so angry, and I didn't know what to do to make you happy again." She broke off, standing up and walking over to the sink. She looked out the window.

"Mom…"

"I almost gave up on you," she said leaning against the sink and looking back at me. "Did you know that?"

"I can't imagine why," I said sarcastically.

"After you got suspended," she started shaking her head. "For that whole month, I must have come up with a million and one things I could do so that I didn't have to deal with you."

"Yeah?" I said. "And what were the best options?"

"Well, sending you off to live with your dad was high on the list. Really, sending you off _anywhere _but here was high on the list." I could see it was hard for her to tell me the truth. "I just…didn't want you to be…my problem anymore. I thought that maybe someone else could help you more that I could. But that all changed."

"But you did send me away," I said leaning back in my chair. "After I got arrested you sent me to the Myers School."

"Ah," she said. "That was different. By that time, I had come to my senses. You are my son – my little boy." I could see tears well up in her eyes. "I was not going to let you fall any further. I wanted to help you. I wanted you to be happy again, and free of the pain you were feeling. I believed that they Myers School and Anger Management was the best thing for you. Better than going to jail."

"It was mom," I told her. "You did the right thing."

"I guess…that's what I'm trying to tell you. If you love something, then you need to fight for it. You need to do everything in your power to hold onto it."

I didn't say anything. I knew she was right. She was always right. But I didn't know what I could do.

"I should probably go talk to Mallory," she said moving away from the sink. As she walked past me she patted me on the shoulder.

"Another thing," she said when she was almost to the hall.

"Yeah?"

"Do you really think that Myers School and Anger Management would have helped you at all if you didn't want to change too? I don't know if I could have fought for you as hard and as long as I did, if you hadn't fought for yourself as well." She paused. "It takes more than one to win a battle."

Then she turned and walked down the hall and up the stairs.

That was what I needed to hear. I was willing to fight for Annabel; for a relationship with her, but was she willing to fight for one too?

It was her move.

* * *

_A/N: Remember to read and review...tell me how you liked it. I'm gonna have to make up a lot of the following stuff, so bear with me. And I'm starting school, so I'll be kinda busy with all that. So hold out. Remember to think of a name. You can always PM me if you think of one after you review. (hint hint) Hope you liked it. And thank you to my new beta reader. She's awesome. You got the job! Yay! Love Always, Siobhan_


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: I am so sorry everyone for not updating in a long time, but I have been so busy with everything I have to do this year. Oh my goodness though, some of you really want another chapter. It's insane how many of you have reviewed of private messaged me, with reasons as to why I should update, an stunned to find out how many of your lives depend on the completion of this story. I thought I should update to keep all my lovely reviewers alive. Hope you like this short little ditty to tide you over. Little quiz at the end!!!_

_Read and review. Thanks! _

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

The weeks after my final run in with Annabel passed slowly by. It was as if someone had pressed the pause button on life, and everyone, everything around me had come to a stop, but I was still moving. I had fallen into a routine with Annabel. I would see her everyday before – at school, out of school, everywhere. She had become more or less a part of my life. Without her there, it was like an empty space in me.

Our last discussion in her car was the last time I had really seen her. I imagined one hundred different things that I could have said to her; one hundred different ways to keep her from running away like she did. I pondered life, and how it was so funny that you always think of the perfect thing to say after the fact. Basically, it sucked. Why is it so impossible to think of what to say when you need to? It's torture, I was being tortured because I couldn't forget her.

Although, I didn't know if I wanted to forget her. Sure I was pissed off at her, but then again, thinking about her smile and laugh, I couldn't help but smile too. My feelings about her at the moment were bittersweet. A bittersweet symphony rolling through my head, never pausing long enough for me to come to a reasonable conclusion.

I didn't know how many times I had been driving past her subdivision and have the burning desire to go see her. Just stop by and say hello, or at least just catch a glimpse of her. It seemed like such a long time since I had seen her, let alone talk to her, excluding the few times I saw her in the halls at school, or walking to her car after school was done. However, I never said anything to her. I never could summon the power.

I knew that I couldn't make the first move. She needed to act first. I needed her to act first.

It was her move.

Since the whole ordeal, everyone was being careful about what they would say or how they would act around me. I could tell they all had so much to say but they were holding it in. I wanted to tell them all, Mom, Rolly, Mallory, that it was okay – I was fine – but it would be nothing but a lie.

My mom was the worst. We never talked about that day in the kitchen, but I could tell she thought about it. Her eyes were always filed with concerned questions that never quite made it to her mouth. I knew it was killing her that I was hurting, but there was nothing I could do. I wanted to make it all better but I couldn't. I think the fact that she understood what I was thinking about the situation was the only thing keeping her from drilling me with useless questions.

Mallory wasn't easy to deal with either. She was probably the one who was the most hurt from the separation from Annabel for she had really liked Annabel and looked up to her. I didn't know what to say to her. I could only imagine how difficult it was for her. She had seen so much hurting and anger in her life so far. This was just another example of how love never worked out.

It took me three weeks to be able to go talk to her about everything. I knocked on her door one day after school and entered when she answered.

"Hey," I said. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing," she said. She was sitting at her desk flipping through a magazine.

I walked over to her bed and sat down, taking extra care to watch my head. "So…" I trailed off. I wasn't sure exactly how to ask her what I was thinking. I guess is was a good thing I didn't have too.

"Owen?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss Annabel?"

I didn't say anything for a moment. Was is just a coincidence that she had asked that, or did she know that was why I came to talk to her? I couldn't tell.

"Yeah," I said after a minute. "I do."

"Me too. Why don't you just go talk to her and make everything better?" She swiveled around in her chair to look at me.

I leaned forward and rested my arms on my legs. "I can't," I told her.

"Why not? If you miss her, just go se her." Of coarse she would think it was really that easy. She wouldn't understand until she went through the same thing I was going through, but I decided to try and make her understand, at least a little.

"It's just not how it has to work. I miss her, but I'm also mad as hell at her." That was the first time I had actually admitted that out loud. "I can't just go fix everything. She was the one who chose to blow me off and not talk to me. She should be the one to end all this. I mean she is the one who won't tell me what is going on with her no matter what I do. I'm just so pissed at her because I thought she was different, but she doesn't think she is. Do you kind of understand."

"No," she said crossing her arms. "I think that the guy should be the one to go apologize and make everything better."

"Mallory, this isn't one of those teen romance novel things. It's never like that in real life."

I got up and walked over to one of her model covered walls. "Life isn't this perfect thing that is always good and wonderful. Life sucks."

"No it doesn't," Mallory retorted defensively.

"Yes is does. Life is dark, and gloomy, and sad. That's just a fact. The happy times we experience are just slight breaks in the darkness. They go just as quickly as the come."

"I don't believe that," she said. "I think life can be perfect, you just have to work at it. Of course its not going to be perfect at first, but eventually it could be."

I didn't say anything. Even though she was my little sister who listened to sucky music and idolized the fake people in the pictures on her wall she had a point. It made sense. But I had never experienced it, so I couldn't bring myself to accept the way she was looking at it.

"Mallory," I said turning around. "You could be right, but from where I'm standing right now, I can't see my life ever being perfect."

My life has always been anything but perfect, everything but perfect.

"I think you're just scared."

"What?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"You're standing her telling me all this life sucks crap and expect me to just accept it. Whatever. You're just scared of being rejected by her. You don't want to go after her because you're afraid that she doesn't want you to. You're afraid that its over."

I didn't say anything.

"But you can't know whether or not she thinks it over because you haven't talked to her yet. You have to do something Owen. Anything. Annabel was great. For the first time in a really really long time, you actually looked happy. For the past few years you have just been so angry. I guess this past year has been okay, but you were still angry, you could just hide it better. But with Annabel, you were different. It reminded me of the Owen before all the stuff with Mom and Dad happened. I've missed him. I want him back."

I didn't know what to say. That was probably one of the most truthful things Mallory has ever told me. I couldn't have ever known what she was thinking. I never thought of how all my problems had affected her. I tried to remember when things were good with us. It was such a different reality.

"I just can't," I told her turning away from her waiting eyes.

"No, you won't."

"Mallory…"

"Owen, I don't want to talk about this anymore. You heard what I think. That's why you came here right? You wanted to know if I was okay. I'm fine. I'll be okay with whatever you do. You're my brother, even if you are really angry and listen to really weird music and everything. I don't care. Your still pretty awesome."

"Thanks," I said.

"Yeah, well."

We were quite a moment. Our brains still absorbing everything.

"Okay then," I said walking to the door. "Thanks for the… insight. It was good talking to you."

She nodded and started to turn back to her magazine.

I opened the door. Before I walked out I turned to her, "Annabel, or no Annabel, I'll always be your brother."

Then I walked into the hall and closed the door behind be. I walked down the hall to my room feeling much different than I did when I was going the opposite way only a while ago.

A/N: Okay. Yeah that sucked. But it's okay.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here it is. It's really short, but I think it says everything that is needed. Hope you like all like it. I have a special surprise for you at the end.

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Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

I would be a sad liar if I said the weeks passed slowly. In fact, it seemed like time was flying by, just not in the "time flies when you're having fun" sense. I had made myself immune to anything. I made it so I couldn't really feel. I told myself that it wasn't lying. I just couldn't stand being sad anymore.

I mostly hung out with Rolly, and sometimes Clarke, in my spare time, when I wasn't working on the show or watching Mallory. We made it an upspoken rule that we wouldn't talk about Annabel. Occasionally, her name would come up, but just as quickly as it had come, we would leave it behind, changing the subject to sports, or Clarke's teacher who wore six hundred pounds of hairspray and talked like a female Willy Wonka. Even with these subject changes, my mind would still go back to her. Annabel. Annabel. Annabel.

She had become such a vital part of my life, and in extension Rolly's that is felt weird sometimes to not have her around.

In my heart, deep inside, past all the anger and resentment that I was feeling towards her, there was a pat of me that really wanted her to be the person standing at the door whenever the door bell rang, or the person on the other side of the phone when ever I went to pick it up. Yeah I missed her. I missed the arguements that we would have. I missed he smile, that I always had to earn, but was so worth it in the end. I even missed the silences that passed between us, that were filled with everything we both wanted to say but couldn't. But she needed to be the person who fixed this. I couldn't be the one who picked up all the pieces.

I often felt like there was a broken record player in my head, repeating this over and over. Why couldn't I think of something else. I always thought about this, and always came to the same conclusion. I wanted something different. I wanted to suddenly wake up and have this solution that will solve all the problems. But I can't. Things don't just happen like that. It's not that easy.

I thought about everything, and decided there was only one person who I could talk to about this.

* * *

"You can't honestly tell me that you are listening to this crap." I said, my voice raised to be heard above the noise of the power drill. I heard it switch off with a groan. 

"Why is it," Wes asked me without turning around, "that you always manage to show up right when I'm playing something you don't like. It must be a gift."

"What can I say," I replied crossing my arms and leaning up against a long table covered in scraps of metal. "I'm just special like that."

Wes was one of the people who I felt like I could talk to anything about. He was the person who first got me to tell the truth.

Back when I had first started going to Anger Management, I didn't want to be there. I didn't think I needed it. One day, having skipped out on group, I was walking through a small courtyard next to the building, when I saw the most amazing sculpture rising out of a ring of bushes. It was an outstretched hand with a heart in the middle. The heart was made of jagged metal, and yet had a softness to it; an innocence. I circled it and came to rest once more in front of it. I reached forward and placed my hand on the metal of the large sculpted hand. It wasn't smooth like I would have thought; it was slightly rough, like half worn down sandpaper.

"Interesting, isn't it?" A voice behind me said. I turned my head and saw a guy standing there, focused on the statue in front of me.

"I guess," I replied not knowing who this guy was.

"Tell me what you think about it. Honestly." He said walking up to stand next to me, still focused on the piece in front of us.

"I'd rather not," I told him.

"Why?" he asked.

"I just…don't know. Why should I tell you what I think of this? What I think isn't important."

"That's where you're wrong," He said walking up closer to the hand. "What you say is extremely important. It changes everything. The truth changes everything."

"So," Wes said taking off his gloves and face shield. "What brings you all the way out here? I haven't seen you around recently."

"Yeah, well, I've been busy."

"Busy" He said as he made his way over to where I was standing. He leaned against the table across from me. "Now that's not one of the adjectives Rolly used to describe how you were when I saw him last week."

"Rolly? That…Oh I am gonna kill him…Dammit!" I ran my hands thorough my hair and stared at the ceiling, or rather the giant mobiles hanging from it.

"Relax," Wes said coolly. "He didn't say much. He's just worried, and as spastic as ever might I add." He laughed.

"Yeah," I said laughing as well. "That's Rolly."

"Owen?" He asked serious again. "What's going on?"

"It's just…nothing."

"Nothing? Rolly didn't make it seem like it was nothing."

"See this is why I am going to kill him. He has to go around and say everything that is going on. God!"

"Just tell me what's going on."

"It's this girl…"

"Annabel,"

"How did you?" I was surprised for a moment. "So, Rolly didn't tell you much, did he?"

"Look," Wes said. "Maybe he told me a lot, but does that really matter? It just means that we can cut out all the beginning explanation crap and cut to the chase. What exactly happened between you and this girl Annabel? Rolly said you really seemed to like her, and then you just suddenly stopped talking and seeing each other."

"Yeah, well…" I didn't know exactly how to put it. "She has…issues."

"And you don't?" Wes always had a way of making everything simple. "Come on, cut the crap."

"She ditched me. And lied to me. And insists she's not the person who I know she is. And there is something going, or something that happened, that she won't tell me about. She won't talk to me, and I can't make her. She just keeps pushing me away, and I can't take it anymore. Everyone keeps telling me I have to go to her and talk to her and try to make things better, but I can't. She doesn't want me to. I'm sick of doing everything. She makes me so mad, and frustrated." I was amazed at how easily everything was coming out. This was everything that had been building up. I couldn't stop. I let it all out in a long stream of consciousness, which would never end. "And I thought everything was different, but apparently I'm just this stupid guy who fell for this girl who in the end just screwed me over. I don't want to be like this. Everything was better before she came into my life. Why did she have to run and cry? Why did I have to give her a ride home? Why couldn't I just have turned my back and walked away? And then why did she have to run away?"

I stopped and took a deep breath.

"Okay…" Wes said. "You defiantly cut the crap…I guess you should –"

"And also, I just am sick and tired of people telling me to suck it up and go find her. I don't want to. I just don't wanna -"

"Then don't."

"What?" I asked confused.

"Don't talk to her. Forget about it. Forget about her. Forget about everything and just go back to what it was like before. Don't let her get to you."

"I can't!" I groaned pushing away from the table and walking across the grey stone floor. "I can't just forget everything."

"Okay then," he said crossing his arms. "I think you know what you need to do."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Again, I say, what?"

"Don't' do anything. Let her figure it out. Let her think. She's a teenage girl. Believe me when I say they are not always the easiest to understand. Girls are emotional. It's just how they are. They also tend to be quite slow when it comes to realizing things. Do you know how long it too for Macy to realize I was in love with her? I swear, I thought I did everything to show her and she couldn't see it. In the end, someone had to tell her for her to really see it.

"You just have to let Annabel figure things out for herself. It is, honestly, the only thing you can do."

"But then I'll just be sitting around doing nothing but thinking about all this. I mean you can see where I'm stuck here, right? I can't go and talk to her, but I can't just sit around making up excuses for her in my head."

"So don't make up excuses. Be mad at her. There's not a rule that says you can't. From where I'm standing it is obvious that you are mad at her. So just leave it at that. Say it. I'm mad at her. And then have that be it. No more buts, no more excuses."

"I am mad at her, but –"

"Don't finish that sentence. You're mad at her. That's it."

"But I'm not really that mad. What happens if she comes back? Am I still mad at her?"

"You tell me." I could see what Wes was trying to do. He was trying to get me to just accept this situation and let it be what it was.

"I'm mad at her now. Because of what she did, or rather didn't do. However, I'm only mad at her because of this situation – because of what happened. But I don't know her side of it. So maybe I wouldn't be mad at her, if I knew why she gave up."

"By George, he's got it!" Wes exclaimed clapping his hands together once.

"That…makes sense. When I think about it, that is what I'm feeling. How the hell do you do that?"

"Do what?"

I walked back to where he was standing. "How is it that I can come here feeling like I'm just stuck in this huge pile of shit, and after talking to you, I'm well…not?"

"It's a gift."

* * *

Driving back from talking to Wes, I felt better than I had in weeks. I finally felt like I had come to an agreement with myself about this whole Annabel thing. Talking to Wes always helped. 

While I was stopped at a stoplight, I reached into the back seat and felt around for a stack of CDs that I had put aside for further inspection. I pulled out a mix CD that I had made but not listened to yet. I took out the CD that was in my player, and slipped the new one in.

The music started and I felt myself relax even more. Before I knew it I had made it to my house sitting outside leaning back and absorbing the music. I let it seep into all my pores, opening up my mind and letting myself go. This was the feeling that I loved. The feeling of being weightless. Like at any moment you could just float away from this earth and go somewhere else. I don't know if I believed in heaven, or God, or any of that stuff, but I do know that there has to be something better than this world we live in.

There has to be something that we are living for. At times like these, when the world seems to pause for a minute, I feel like I can see beyond this life, into something different. My own world.

Music is magical like that. It has the power to take you away - if only for three minutes and fifteen seconds - to a place where everything is okay. A place where everything is perfect and in place.

I could have ejected the CD and brought it inside with me, but there was something about sitting outside in the dark, in my car by myself that made the music that much more special. I turned the volume up more. It was almost as if this was a private concert conducted for me. Each beat was directed at me. Each note, each syllable, only for me.

It was amazing.

I forgot everything.

And lost myself.

* * *

_A/N: So how was it? Kinda short (Well, really short), but sweet. I'm thinking that this is gonna be the last of second to last chapter of Owen being alone - Next up...Annabel's confession. Very exciting. Don't foget to keep sending in names for "The Truth About Forever". Whose ever's I pick gets to read the last chapter of Or Not before everyone else does!!! Yay!_

_The special surprise that I have for you is this. I made a playlist for this chapter, or more specifically, when Owen is in his car. There is only one problem, I don't know how you get it out to you guys. I have tried every site, and I just can't do it. It seems that the songs I have on the playlist are so obscure that they can't fins the files in their archives, so they won't upload. I also can't email it out for some reason. It's a really good playlist, I think, so if anyone really wants to hear it, and can find a way for me to get it to you…let me know. I worked really hard on it, and I really want to share it with you! I guess if you want I could just email you the song names and have you go try to find them...but I don't wanna make you do all that work..._

_Love Always,_

_Siobhan_


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: I know! Two update in two days. Pretty exciting. This chapter isn't that good. I pretty much wrote it in maybe an hour and a half, but I thought I'd put it up anyways….hope you like._

_I don't own any of this.

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Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

"This is WRUS, your community radio station. It's seven fifty-eight, and this is Anger Management. Here's one final song."

Rolly gave me the thumbs up from the adjacent room. I took of my headphones, and placed them next to the stack of CDs I had in front of me. _No time like the present to start thinking about next weeks show, _I thought to myself. I started sifting through the pile searching for a song I had been listening to that past Friday at lunch.

I had been sitting there for only a few minutes when I saw something flash out of the corner of my eye. Herbal Prescription had already started so I thought it might be Rolly getting ready to go. I glanced over ready to tell him I needed a few more minutes when I saw that it in fact wasn't Rolly standing there. It was Annabel. Annabel Greene. The same girl who I hadn't talked to in weeks. The same girl who refused to even look at me. The same girl who had ditched me without any explanation other than that she had "stuff" going on.

I always imagined that when she finally showed up, I would be ready to listen to her; ready to forgive her. But now that I was faced with it, I wasn't. I could feel the anger floating up, and suddenly I didn't want her there. I wished she had never shown up right in front of me. I was just starting to get over it, and there she was.

She was looking through the glass at Rolly and Clarke talking, then she looked over to where I was sitting. She walked towards the glass door, and pushed it open, walking into the studio.

"Hi," she said looking at me.

I paused for a moment, thinking. _Hi. That's it._ "Hey," I replied, my voice flat.

There was a buzz of the PA system followed by Rolly's voice. "Annabel! Hey! What's going on?"

She turned and held up a hand to Rolly and Clarke who enthusiastically waved back. He leaned again toward the microphone, but after seeing the look I gave to him, that translated roughly into, _Say anything else and you die on the spot, _caused him to change him mind. There was a click and we were alone again.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Annabel.

"I need to talk to you," She said.

I could see Rolly and Clarke packing up in the other room, seemingly desperate to get out of the station. "We're, um, going to go ahead to the bacon," He said as he passed. "See you there?"

I nodded. Clarke looked at Annabel. "You okay?" She asked her.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm fine."

Clarke looked once more at me and then ran to catch up with Rolly.

I stood up and began packing as well. I didn't really feel like talking to Annabel right now. "I don't have much time," I told her. "So if you've got something to say, go ahead and say it."

"Okay. It's –" She paused. "It's about this," She said holding up a CD. "It was supposed to blow my mind? Remember?"

"Vaguely," I said glancing at the CD. It must have been one of the stack that I had made for her.

"I listened to it last night," she continued. "But I wanted to be, um, sure that I got it. Your intention, I mean."

"My intention," I repeated, a little confused.

"Well, you know," she said, "there's a lot left up to interpretation. So I just wanted to make sure I really, you know, got it."

We stared at each other for a moment before I stuck my hand out for the CD. She handed it to me, and I turned it in my hands looking at it. "There's no track listing on here," I told her.

"Don't you remember what you put on it?" She asked.

"It was a long time ago," I pointed out looking at her. "And I made you a lot of CDs."

"Ten," she said. "I listened to them all."

'Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You told me you wanted me to before I put that one on."

"Ah," I sighed. "So now you care about what I want." I knew it was mean, but I couldn't help it. I was so mad, and now very confused at what she was trying to say.

"I always cared about that," she said.

"Really? It's been kind of hard to tell, by the way you've been avoiding me for the last two months." I reached out and hit the open button on the player in front of me. I slid the CD in.

"I figured that _was _what you wanted."

"Why?" I asked. I turned the volume up.

She swallowed hard. "You were the one who got out of the car in the parking lot that day and walked away. You'd had it with me."

"You ditched me at a club and wouldn't even tell me why," I said back my voice rising. "I was pissed, Annabel."

"Exactly," she said loudly. "You were pissed. I'd let you down. I was not what you wanted me to be—"

"—and so you just bolted," I finished turning up the volume again. "Disappeared. One argument, and you're out of there."

"What did you want me to do?" She said.

"Tell me what was going on, for one," I said getting madder. "God, tell me _something. _It's like I said, I could have handled it."

"Like you were handling my not saying anything? You were furious with me."

"So what? I was entitled," I glanced at the player. "People get mad, Annabel. It's not the end of the world."

"So I was supposed to just explain myself, and let you be mad at me, and then maybe you might have gotten over it—"

"I would have gotten over it."

"—or not," she said glaring at me. "Maybe it would have changed everything."

"That happened anyway!" I said. "I mean look at us not. At least if you'd told me what was going on, we could have dealt with it. As it was, you just left everything hanging, no resolution, nothing. Is that what you wanted? That I be gone for good, rather that just mad for a little while?"

She stood there not saying anything. Not moving. "I didn't," she started. "I didn't realize that was an option."

"Of course it was," I said looking at the speaker above my head. "Whatever it was, it couldn't have been that bad. All you had to do was be honest. Tell me what really happened."

"It's not that easy."

"Is this? Ignoring and avoiding each other, acting like we were never friends? Maybe for you. It's sucked for me. I don't like playing games."

"I don't like that, either," she said looking down. "But—"

"If it's so big that it's worth all this," I waved my hand around between us, "all this crap and weirdness that's happened since then, it's too big to keep insider. You know that."

"No," she said, "_you_ know that, Owen. Because you don't have problems with anger – yours or anyone else's. You just use all your little phrases, and everything you've learned, and you're always honest and you never regret a thing you say or how you act—"

"Yes I do."

"—and I'm not like that. I'm just not."

"Then what are you like Annabel?" I shot back. "A liar, like you told me that first day? Come on. That was the biggest lie of all."

She just looked at me.

"If you were a liar, you would have just lied to me," I looked at the speakers again. "You would have just acted like everything was fine. But you didn't."

"No," She said shaking her head.

"And don't tell me this is easy for me, because it's not. These last couple of months have sucked, not knowing what's going on with you. What is it, Annabel? What's so bad you can't even tell me?"

"You don't understand," she said after a moment.

"Then tell me, and maybe I will," I said pushing the empty chair in from of me towards her. "And what, is going _on _with this CD? Where's the music? Why can't we hear anything?"

"What?" she said.

I pushed a few buttons on the player swearing under my breath. "There's nothing on this. It's blank."

"Isn't that the point?"

"What?" I said. "What point."

She suddenly got a shocked look on her face. She reached out for the chair and lowered herself into it. Her eyes were unfocused, looking beyond the room to something else. She started shaking her head, and closed her eyes.

I turned down the volume on the static. She continued to keep her eyes closed.

"Annabel?" I said worried, genuinely worried about her. "What is it?"

I wanted so bad to know now. What was this huge thing that she couldn't tell me? What was it? Why wouldn't she let me help her? Please Annabel, just tell me.

"Don't think or judge," she said quietly. "Just listen."

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so I'm gonna stop it there. I don't know if I want to go through Annabel's whole story. It's really long considering that she tells him everything. So yeah. I might just put his final reaction. It would be easier, and I would update sooner…hehe. So yeah. Remember to review. Reviews make me happy!!!_

_Questions get sent to or Siobhan Egan on facebook. I'm always on…I'm addicted to Facebook and Fanfiction. It's sad…_


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: I am so sorry this has taken so long to post. I have been so busy lately and have had no time to write anything. Anyway, here it is - hope you enjoy. Thank you. Disclaimer: Just Listen belongs to Sarah Dessen._

* * *

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

"Don't think or judge," she said. "Just listen."

Quite honestly, I didn't know what to say. It wasn't that I had nothing to say – in fact I had many things to say – I just didn't know what I should say. I was feeling so many emotions at one time sitting there in that glass room listening to her.

She told me so many things. Things she had kept secret until then. Things that she had held inside as I badgered her to open up. I could have never expected something like this. Her sister was sick, her friends abandoned her, and she had been raped. Fucking Will Cash had raped her.

I was so angry. _Shhh, Annabel. It's just me. _That sick bastard. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to run out of the station and go find him and kill him, but I held myself back. I could barely stomach the idea that he had touched her and then passed it off as her fault.

But I had to stay calm. For Annabel's sake. I had to be there for her.

How could she have held all of this inside?

"I'm sorry Annabel," I said after a long moment. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

It was all I could say. She held her head in he hands and then looked up at me. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I was just so scared and I didn't want you to not like me anymore and not want to be close to me," she stopped her voice breaking. "I was just so scared."

She started to cry, slow tears running down her face.

"Shh, come here," I said turning slightly in my chair and opening my arms to her. She stood up and walked over to where I was sitting wiping her eyes and attempting to get control of herself. Once inside my reach, I grabbed her and pulled her onto my lap holding her close to me.

I didn't even think about it. It seemed so natural having her near me. She was so close I could smell her hair and see every light freckle on her neck. I could feel her warm skin through the light material of her t-shirt. Her left hand grasped the front of my shirt while her right one rested against her thigh. I squeezed her harder never wanting to let go again.

I used to watch my mother hold Mallory like this after my parents got divorced. She would have horrible nightmares just as she was trying to fall asleep and would come down to the family room, tears running down her face, into my mother's waiting arms. My mother would hold her on her lap rocking her back and forth until Mallory would fall asleep again.

I remembered being annoyed because I was trying to watch TV or listen to music, or rarely read a book but now as I sat there holding Annabel close to me, I could finally understand why Mallory was calmed by my mother this way.

I held on to Annabel and felt her relax in my arms.

We sat like that for a long time until the people on the next show came and we had to leave the booth.

As we were standing by me car outside I asked her, "So what are you going to do? Are you going to call that woman? About the trial?"

"I don't know," she said.

I didn't say anything at first. I wanted to tell her she had to talk to that woman and put fucking Will Cash away but I knew I had to be careful about how I said anything now.

"The thing is," I said when I couldn't wait any longer to express how I felt about her current situation, "there aren't a whole lot of opportunities in life to really make a difference. This is one of them."

"Easy for you to say," she said. "You always do the right thing." This was far from the truth.

"No I don't," I replied shaking my head. "I just do the best I can –"

"Under the circumstances, I know," she said cutting me off. "But I'm scared. I don't know if I can do it."

"Of course you can," I told her knowing that she could. She was strong and willful – she just had to find it within herself.

"How can you be so sure?' she asked looking down.

"Because you just did," I said. "Coming here, and telling me that? That's huge. Most people couldn't do it. But you did."

"I had to," she said looking up again. "I wanted to explain."

"And you can do it again," I replied to this. "Just call that woman and tell her what you told me."

She sighed and reached up to run a hand though her hair. "There's more to it than that," she said. "What if she wants me to come testify or something? I'd have to tell me parents, my mom… I don't know if she can take it."

"She can," I replied.

"You don't even know her," she told me.

"I don't have to," I said. "Look, this is important. You know that. So do what you have to do, and then go from there. Your mom might surprise you."

I dropped my bag on the ground and looked through it looking for the one thing I believed would give her the courage she needed right now. After rummaging through for a moment I pulled out the picture from the night of Mallory's sleepover.

"Here," I said handing her the picture. "For inspiration."

I didn't have to look at it to know what she was seeing. I had studied the picture so much I knew every detail with my eyes closed. She was standing in the doorway to the power-room, relaxed and alive. The harsh light softening upon reaching her face. Her hair messy but soft. Her eyes staring right into the camera, coming up from the picture.

It was how I knew her. Beautiful and welcoming, strong and womanly, honest and open. It was how I wanted her to see herself.

"Mallory told me to give it to you," I said folding my arms in front of my chest. "But…"

"But?"

"… I didn't," I finished.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I liked it," I said shrugging it off attempting to not turn red. "I wanted to hang on to it."

That was the truth – no doubt about it. But maybe not the whole truth. When she left a little while later, still holding the photo, I sat in my car thinking about everything. It was then that I realized how much I loved her. It wasn't little kiddy love or best friend love. It was really knock-your-socks-off-rip-your-heart-out love.

She was all I could think about. Nothing else in the entire world was as important to me as she was.

The more I thought about it the more I came to the conclusion that I always loved Annabel. From that first day we met until now. I had never stopped loving her. I couldn't place my finger on why I did – maybe it was just one of those things that happens and you have no control over. It was fate.

It was with this revelation that I fully grasped what had happened to her. What that bastard did to her. He had hurt Annabel beyond belief and then had gotten away with it. I couldn't believe it. I was more angry in that moment that I had ever been in my entire life. How could guy have done that – especially to Annabel who was possibly one of the greatest people?

I decided that since Annabel was gone I didn't have to be strong anymore and I broke down. I double over right there in the middle of the station parking lot, sitting in my car. My sobs filled the empty cab. I could here myself and hated that I couldn't control myself. I brought my fist down on the dashboard with enough force to cause a stack of CDs balanced on it to topple over onto the floor.

My eyes were clouded over with angry tears and as I sat there I just got more and more angry. I pulled myself together after a while and sat up straight in the seat still thinking about Will Cash.

I remembered the look of fear in Annabel's eyes that first day when she had seen Will across the parking lot. Now that I knew what caused that look I cursed Cash over and over in my head. Cursed him for what he did to her that night and every night since. For the amount of pain he had inflicted on Annabel.

I cursed him over and over in my head until the curses became vocal. There I was sitting in my car at 10:00 on a Sunday morning cursing the kid who raped the only girl I loved.

I gripped the steering wheel and willed myself to gain control. Reaching toward the radio, I switched it on and then ejecting the current CD from the player I slipped in a new one I had just gotten and hadn't had the chance to listen to. I needed something to calm me down – something happy and upbeat to get me in a different mood – even though I knew this would never happen.

As the first track started I relished in the feeling the beat-driven techno radiated. I sat back and listened to the entire first track without moving. I tried to let the music flow into me and still my anger but I couldn't. My mind was elsewhere – everywhere else but on the music.

Instead of feeling calm I was even more high strung.

I had to see him. Just once. I just wanted to get a good look at him. I convinced myself that it was not because I wanted to give him what he disserved it was so I could relax tomorrow. Get the initial feelings out in the open so tomorrow in the courtroom when I saw him I wouldn't blow up. That's what I told myself.

* * *

Some hours later I was making my way into Bendo ready to come face to face with Will Cash. I knew from before that he sometimes hung around with Perkins Day, a horrible local cover band and figured her would be there tonight since they we in the showcase at Bendo that was taking place.

The showcase had been advertised for months so when I got there it was jam packed. I made my way over to the stage wasting no time. The band that was on was winding down their last song as I got up there.

"Hey," I said to guy standing next to me holding a beer in his hand and smelling like one as well, "Do you know when Perkins Day comes on?"

"Yeah, dude," he said having to look up at me, "They're next."

"Thanks," I replied looking around. I guessed that if Perkins Day was next, Cash would probably be out getting set to watch but I couldn't see him yet.

"Aren't you excited?" the guy addressed me again.

"Not really," I replied slipping my hands into my pockets.

"You're shittin' me right?" The guy slurred. "How can you not be? I've been waitin' for this for weeks." Just then someone bumped into him and he lost his already teetering balance and knocked into me spilling his beer all over the floor and himself. I used my arm to push him back up.

"You sure you're going to remember it?" I said under my breath.

'What was that?" he asked uninterested. "Oh shit, my beer…it's all gone. I hate when that happens." _I'll bet you do, _I thought to myself. "I'm gonna go get another. You want one?"

"No thanks," I said. "You've had enough for the both of us."

"Okay, dude. Catch you later." With that he made his way back to the bar.

Fifteen minutes later Perkins Day was sucking up the stage and I still hadn't caught sight of Cash.

Tired of listening to the atrocious covers the band was spitting out, I decided I needed some fresh air.

I made my way back through the crowd and out the side door that led into the alley along the side of the club.

Once outside I noticed I wasn't alone in the alley. The smell of cigarettes drew my eyes to the left and there, to my distaste, was Will Cash, leaning against the brick wall smoking.

I didn't want to appear obvious so I let the door slam shut behind me and walked into the alley. Will looked over and nodded his head in greeting. I didn't make any move to reciprocate the greeting. Noticing this, he made another attempt.

"How you like the show?"

"You know, not so much." I replied.

"Really? Not a Perkins Day fan?" he continued.

"No particularly." I said. What the _hell _was this kid talking to me for? How can he just stand her carrying on a conversation with me, while tomorrow he was to go to trial for raping teenage girls?

"That's too bad," he said taking a drag from his cigarette. "Some people just don't know what good music is."

I could feel my blood boil. What the hell was his talking about? He couldn't be referring to the joke of a band that was on stage right at that moment. I chose to ignore this comment afraid of what I would say. I reminded myself that all I was supposed to do was look at him and take the shock out of it so I didn't do something stupid tomorrow. But with Will Cash standing in front of me talking to me as if nothing was wrong I couldn't help but became more pissed off.

"So tell me," Will said breaking the silence. "What are you doing here if you aren't here to listen to the band?"

I looked at him thinking of all the horrible things I could say to answer this question. "Just, getting away," I said holding back.

"I feel you man. Sometimes you just got to get away from the stress of everyday life." he said standing up straight taking a final drag from his smoke and putting out on the ground with his foot. "I'm gonna head back in. See you later."

Then as he walked past me he clapped his hand on my shoulder and I lost it. I grabbed his hand and threw if off of me and then cocked my arm back and punched him straight in the eye. He stumbled back holding his face.

'What the _fuck_ man?" he yelled. "What the fuck is your problem?" _Oh shit,_ I thought instantly regretting it.

He lunged back at me trying to hit me but I ducked out of the way and he stumbled past me hitting the wall. He tried to hit me again just as the door swung open and the security guard came out.

"Hey," he said. "Hey! What's going on out here?" I pushed Will away from me and attempted to push past the guard to get out of the alley. "Wait just a second there," she said grabbing my upper arm. "I asked you what is going on?"

"He punched me," Will told him pointing to his face. "I was going back inside and he just freaked out and punched me!"

"Is that true?" the guard asked turning me to face him. I didn't say anything just looked back at him and then at Will.

"Alright, get out of here, both of you before I call the cops."

I turned around walking out of the alley, running my hands though my hair, cringing slightly at the pain that shot through my right hand. Behind me I could hear Will arguing with the bouncer insisting that he had nothing to do with it – it was all my fault.

I rounded the corner and walked to my car mentally punching myself the entire way. How could I be so stupid? What was going to happen tomorrow when I had to be at the courthouse? What was Will going to say when he saw me there with Annabel? I was so screwed.

Once in my car, I took four deep breaths and started the car. Pulling out of the parking lot I saw Cash come out of the alley looking royally pissed. I drove away hating myself for being so stupid. I didn't know what was wrong with me.

Walking into my kitchen a half hour later I was still pissed off – at Will Cash and myself. I had driven around for a while trying to get a hold of myself, but nothing was really helping. My mom was sitting at the kitchen table and looked up as I walked in. Years of experience taught my mom to know when I was angry so she closed the magazine she was reading and asked me the one question I didn't want her to.

"What happened Owen?" she asked. "What's wrong."

I sat down at the table opposite her and folded my hands on the table. "I made a mistake," I told her looking down trying not to lock eyes with her.

She paused for a second as if she was debating whether she wanted to know what happened or not. "What kind of mistake?" she asked settling in for the worst. I had a flash back to the night I had gotten in the fight at that bar. Even though I couldn't see her as I called her on the phone, I knew what her face looked like. I knew she was thinking about that night to. I started off the conversation the exact same way.

"I punched Will Cash in the eye," I told her finally looking up.

"You _what_?" she said her eyes bulging. "Why would you do that? Who is Will Cash?"

"He was just pissing me off," I replied knowing that was not an answer. "I don't know. We were standing there and he was talking to me and was pissing me off. I just wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't thinking," she said slamming her magazine down on the table. "What do you mean he was pissing you off? You can't just go around punching people because they piss you off! Jesus Christ Owen! I thought we were past this." Her voice was getting louder and louder with every sentence. I could tell she was furious at me. She really did think everything was better after Anger Management; that we wouldn't have any more of these issues. "Everything was going so good? What possessed you to hit someone? You can't do that Owen!"

"I know but I just –"

"Now you don't _just_ anything. Owen, I can't believe this. Where was this? They didn't call the police or anything, right? Oh God I don't think I can handle this again."

"No," I said. "The bouncer at the club kicked him and me out. He didn't call anyone. It's okay –"

"No it is not okay, Owen," she said standing up and pacing the kitchen. "Do you know what would have happened if the police had been involved? What if the kid pressed charges? You would go to jail. The law isn't so nice to repeat offenders. Oh, Owen! I am just so mad… you know better. This is not acceptable."

"I know, I just…" I paused, "made a mistake."

"Okay, Owen," she said standing still and leaning against the counter. On her face was what Mallory liked to call, "the mean face". "We need to talk."

* * *

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who is still with me on this story. I know it has been a long time - I am so so sorry. Hope you liked it though. Please review - it makes me really happy!  
_


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Well, here it is. The last chapter besides the epilogue. I'm sorry it took so long… I've been so busy. I hope you love this as much as I do. This is my baby – enjoy.

And remember to review if you like it. Or dislike it.

Just Listen – Owen's Point of View

Sitting there waiting for Annabel to come out of the courtroom was agony. Complete and utter agony. I had arrived late and had not been allowed to enter the courtroom so I had gone back outside and sat on the side of the fountain.

I was so angry with myself. If I hadn't have been so stupid the night before I would be in there with Annabel; supporting her, holding her hand. Last night was difficult. I sat up and talked with my mom early into the morning. I told her everything that had happened, and she told me everything that would happen. I was in so much trouble. Punished to the end of the earth. No more radio show, no more hanging out on school nights, no more Bendo, no more life.

Who could blame her though? Some part of me begged for more. What I had done was stupid. I had lost control – even for only a moment – and I needed to pay for it. I was missing the most important thing Annabel had ever had to do because of one stupid moment of lost self-control.

I could see her face – furious at me. I had told her I would be there with her and now I wasn't. Convincing my mom I had to go took longer than I thought. She didn't think that being in the same room with Will Cash, who I had punched hours before was the best thing. I insisted though. Insisted that I had to be there for Annabel if it was the last thing I did for the rest of the year. I had to be there.

And after all that hard work – I had been late and not even allowed to go in.

I sat there restless, switching songs on my iPod every 20 seconds nothing seemed to fit my mood. I was angry, and sad, and frustrated, and hopeful, and excited, and nervous, all at the same time.

Eventually, I pulled the buds out of my ears and listened to the world around me.

The people walking by deep in conversation with their colleagues, friends, cell phones. I listened to the cars on the road behind me, the water rushing, birds flying overhead, the sound of a hammer in the distance, a child screaming because she didn't want to go home.

For the first time I became aware of the music of the world. It had no rhythm or pattern but it was beautiful. So random and different. Each sound indifferent to each other and yet undeniably connected. A symphony of light and sound.

For once I didn't need my iPod to distract me.

It was liberating, if only for the moment. I didn't know how long it would last but I held onto every second that the world captivated me for, hoping it wasn't the last.

I leaned back on my hands the tips of my fingers grazing the water.

Sitting there a distant memory came to mind. It was the first memory I could remember of my dad. We had gone out to get ice cream after dinner one night so that my mom could rest. It was an old Dairy Queen that sat on the peninsula of two streets. It was always crowded with people inside and out, sitting wherever they could.

The most desired place to sit was in this grassy fenced off place right on the corner. There was a cluster of picnic tables always covered with the sticky remains of people's ice cream but was a nice, beautiful place to sit and watch the cars go by.

I was in the phase where I had just begun to really talk and couldn't seem to stop myself. Obviously my parents were getting a little fed up.

As we sat there eating our ice cream I was talking a mile a minute when my dad put his hand on the top of my head and said, "Owen, you have the rest of your life to talk, but only this moment to look and see the world as it is now."

I didn't understand what he meant at the time, but I took it as "be quiet". I sat there with my dad eating my large chocolate dipped cone and watched the cars drive by.

The table next to us was having a fun time trying to guess what colors the next car to come around the corner would be. But we just sat there watching. It was the only time in my childhood that I think I actually sat still and watched the world go by.

Just like now – sitting and listening to the music of the world, watching the world go by.

I saw her almost instantly as she walked out of the courthouse. As soon as we made eye contact I stood up preparing for the worst. I stuck my hands in my pockets as I watched her talk to her parents her face serious. She walked down the steps towards where I was standing, her parents watching her all the way.

I got more nervous as she began to cross the square and shifted uncomfortably.

"Hi," I said as soon as she got close enough.

"Hi."

I took a deep breath wanted to explain before she got mad. "Look," I said. "I know you're pissed off at me."

She opened her mouth to say something but I continued before she could.

"The basic fact it that I should have been here. I have no excuse. There is no excuse. I mean, there is a reason. But it's not an excuse."

"Owen," she said. "It's—"

"Something happened." I said shaking my head. I could feel my face getting hot. I was so embarrassed and so mad at myself. What would she think? What would she say? "Something stupid. I made a mistake, and—"

A look of realization came to her face and I knew there were no more words.

"Owen," she said. "No way."

"It was an error in judgment," _Yeah those we the right words – not_. "And something I regret."

"Something." She repeated.

"Yes." I said knowing what she was thinking.

"Placeholder," she said.

"I thought you might say that," I told her wincing slightly.

"Come on," she said. "You _knew_ I would say that."

"Fine, fine." How could see be so right? How could she know me so well? I decided to continue. "I was having an in-depth discussion with my mother. One that I could not easily extract myself from."

"A discussion," she said. "About what?"

"Well," I started. "Basically, I'm supposed to be under punishment right now. For the foreseeable future, in fact. So I had to negotiate a furlough. It took longer than I expected."

"You're grounded," she said.

"Yes." Why was she drawing this out?

"For what?" Okay, now she was doing it on purpose. She just wanted me to say it. It was her punishing me.

"Owen," she said. I looked away fidgeting. "What did you do?"

I took a deep breath and looked at Annabel. "I punched Will Cash in the face."

"What were you _thinking_?"

"Well," I said, "Clearly I wasn't. I didn't intend to do it."

"You punched him by accident."

"No," I said shooting her a look. She knew what I meant. "Okay, you really want to know?"

"Am I not asking?"

"Look," I said, "the truth is, after you left yesterday, I was really pissed off. I mean I'm human right?"

"You are."

"I really only wanted to get a good look at him. That was all. And I knew he sometimes plays with that shitty Perkins Day band that was in a showcase last night at Bendo, so I figured he might be there. And he was. Which, really, when you think about it, is despicable. What kind of a person goes to a club – to see a shitty band, no less – the night before he's due in court? It's—"

"Owen."

"I'm serious! Do you know how much they _suck_? Seriously, even for a cover band they're pathetic. I mean, if you're going to just come out and admit you can't write your own songs, at least be able to play other people's well…"

She just looked at me.

"Right," I said running a hand through my hair. "So anyway, he was there, I got a look at him, end of story."

"Clearly," she said, "that is not the end of the story."

_Jeeze. _"I watched their set. Which, as I said, sucked. I went out for some air, and he was outside smoking a cigarette. And he starts talking to me. Like we know each other. Like he's not the freaking scum of the earth, a total fucking asshole."

Just talking about it again was making my blood boil.

"Owen," she said softly.

"I could feel myself getting more and more pissed off. I knew I should breathe, and walk away, and everything else, but I didn't. And then, when he finished his cigarette, he clapped me on the shoulder and turned to go back inside. And I just—"

She stepped closed to me.

"—snapped," I finished. "I lost it."

"It's okay," she said.

"I knew even when I was doing it I'd regret it. That it wasn't worth it. But by then it was already happening. I'm really pissed off at myself, if you want to know the truth."

"I know."

"It was just one punch which doesn't make it okay. And I'm so freaking lucky the bouncer just broke us up and told us both to get out of there, and didn't call the cops. If he had…" I stopped. "It's just so stupid."

"But you told your mom anyway," she said.

"When I got home she could tell I was pissed. So she asked me what happened, and I had to tell her—"

"Because you're honest," she said coming a little closer.

"Well, yeah," I said looking down at her. "She was livid, to say the least. Laid down this hardcore punishment, totally deserved, but then today, when I tried to leave to come here, things got kind of sticky."

"It's okay," she said again.

"It's not though," I told her. "Because I'm not like that. Anymore. I just…freaked out."

She reached up and brushed my hair out of my face. "Huh," she said. "Really."

"What?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "It's just to me, that's not freaking out."

"It's not," I said thinking for a moment looking into her eyes. "Oh," I said getting what she meant. "Really?"

"I mean to me," she said moving closer, "freaking out it different. More of a running away, not telling anyone what's wrong, slowly simmering until you burst kind of thing."

"Ah," I said. "Well, I guess it's just a matter of semantics."

"I guess so." She reached down and brushed her hand against mine.

"You know," I said grasping her fingers in mine, "it sure seems like you have all the answers."

"Nah," she said her eyes shimmering. "I'm just doing the best I can, under the circumstances."

"How's that going?"

She paused for a moment thinking. "Well, you know. It's day by day."

I smiled at her and she smiled back stepping closer. As she reached up to me I lowered to her. I closed my eyes as our lips met in the middle in a kiss that said more than a million well-chosen words. It made the world spin and stop, cleared my mind of everything, and sparked a light within me.

Everything was suddenly new and different. And I was in the arms of someone like no one else in the world. It was like a beautiful song, steady and slow, reaching out, touching people's hearts and souls, changing the world one note at a time.

A/N: Thank you so much. Hope you liked it. Remember to review!


	23. UPDATE 7-23-13

Hello!

To all those who still have this story on alert, or favorite, or even occasionally think of this story – thank you. And to those new readers out there – welcome!

This story is very close to my heart and is one of the things I am proudest of in my life. I still cannot believe I actually wrote an entire story!

That being said, I know I haven't written another story or updated "Or Not" for a long time. However, I am finally feeling inspired again and am working on completely editing and revising "Or Not." Four years of college have taught me a lot about writing and I feel I'm finally in a place where I can objectively look back on the story I wrote almost five years ago and make the necessary changes to it so I can once again be proud of it. And who knows! Maybe I will get around to writing my "The Truth About Forever" story from Wes's point of view. We'll see…

So stay updated and look for changes to this story in the coming weeks! It will be better than ever!

As a second, and slightly more upsetting, note, it came to my attention about a year ago by a reviewer, that someone had plagiarized "Or Not" right here on FanFiction. This really upset me as you can imagine! Stealing someone's intellectual property is the same as stealing their personal belongings and I am still extremely distraught over this for many reasons. I am also appalled that they would not only steal my story, but then post it on the same site! In case you are wondering, the story in question is called "No Liberties" and was posted by Dizzy-x3. And yes I am positive they plagiarized – it's obvious if you compare both stories. Not to mention I _completed_ my story 6 months before she _published_ hers. I have contacted her as well as FanFiction about the issue but have received no response from either source.

So, if anyone knows what I can do to get either her or FanFiction to take her story down (because it is obviously in direct violation of FanFictions plagiarism policy) I would greatly appreciate it. Plagiarism is a serious offense.

In summary: enjoy the story, keep an eye out for updates and revisions, don't read "No Liberties" by Dizzy-x3, and let me know if you have any suggestions about getting this plagiarized material removed.

Thanks and enjoy!

Siobhan

aka politik780


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